STATUS QUO
by Ro Nordmann
Summary: In a society where love is between men; women are rented out as bearers of children, nothing more. Peeta and Finnick are perfect for each other or are they? Status quo: to keep things the way they presently are... Follow the Law we are bound or face the consequences. [Odark/Kat; Everlark?]
1. Part I

**S-T-A-T-U-S Q-U-O**

**Disclaimer**: _All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc., are the property of their respective owners. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended._

**:::**

"Suck harder, Peet!"

His hands held his head closer, almost choking him on his erect cock. But Peeta relented and kept his pace. After all he was accustomed to Finnick's passion getting the best of him. Peeta hummed in delight, as he saw the signs of his coming eruption.

"Ah, fuck. Baby, I love you… so much…"

As he swallowed his salty semen, Peeta locked his eyes on the sprawled man before him. They had been matched, therefore there was no one else for him. He was truly grateful. He knew of others, not so fortunate in their matchmaking. Finnick was the definition of male beauty. No man alive could compare to his lean physique and his sea colored eyes, that simply enraptured him with his intense stare, with the simple cock of his eyebrows.

He felt tempted to ask for reciprocation, so he could entangle his fingers in his auburn locks. His Finnick was rare indeed and only his, for the rest of their lives.

"Get off your knees, Peet. I don't want you getting calluses on your kneecaps. You're too young for that. Come rest by my side. I'll be taking care of you in a few… my I do love to see you flushed and breathless."

Side by side, they now could look into each other's eyes. Finnick's hand decided to play with its favorite toy.

"Mmm… as hard as you are, makes me want to take and take. You know finding each other, seeing how right we are has made me the happiest man. But there's something missing… can you feel it?"

Peeta could barely keep up with Finnick's conversation, as his hand kept jerking him and he was so very close to completion.

"Don't fucking come. Yet."

His grip held, and Peeta grunted displeased.

"Fine. What's so important? I want to come, and you can fuck me after. What's more pressing than this?"

Finnick smirked and leant closer, swiftly his mouth closed on Peeta's. He bit his lower lip in warning or loving caress. Peeta was clueless, as to which.

"We have a duty to our country. It is the Law, produce a child after three years of union. We need to choose a woman from the Hob, to bear our child."

And just like that Peeta's erection deflated.

"What way with words you have, Finn. You don't have to jerk me off anymore. My hard-on is gone. I don't want to talk about this now."

Peeta pushed his hands away and tried to turn his back. Finnick stopped him, touched his cheek trying to make eye contact.

"Peet…it is our obligation. We've been together three years. If we don't comply we will be arrested. It really isn't worth all that. We'll go together and choose some pretty thing, that will give us the most gorgeous boy. He'll be the happiest child, since he'll have us both. Don't you want to see your blue eyes on our boy?"

Peeta act of indifference was failing, as a chuckle escaped his lips.

"You've thought about this? To tell you the truth, I would prefer, he'd have your looks…can you imagine. He'd be everyone's envy, baby."

Finnick got closer and started to kiss his partner. His hands caressed his bare back.

"Do you see him? I see your eyes, so I want you to father our first child. We can try for a second in a few years…then I'll give you the perfect offering. Does this mean you'll come with me to the Hob? I think we should select an untouched specimen, that way we are sure she's fresh. I want only the best for our child. She has to be a beauty, that will completed with your own looks."

Peeta grunted in pleasure, as Finnick's touches ignited once again his desire.

"All right. You can be very…persuasive."

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

The Capitol's Hob was jammed packed with couples searching for the perfect vessel to produce their offspring.

"We have an appointment with the Hob's headmistress, Effie Trinket. She'll show us the prime specimens available. This way we won't have to spend all day, fighting with other couples to get what we want."

"I want to eat at our favorite restaurant after this. I'm still hungry. This better be a swift process, Finn."

Finnick slapped Peeta's ass, and tsked in disapproval.

"Patience, my Peeta. All good things comes to those who wait. Who knows, you might like making our child, and we keep our donor."

Peeta was revolted at the thought of keeping a woman around, much less taking daily pleasure with her body. It was enough knowing he would have to impregnate said woman, for the sake of Finn and to follow the Law.

"Don't push me, Finn. One step at a time."

Finn guffawed at his disgusted expression.

"If you can't get it up, I'll be there to get you good and hard. It is part of the process, you'll see. I'll take that gorgeous cock of yours into my mouth, lick that vein on the underside, just the way you like-"

Someone had cleared their throat and interrupted Finn's seductive monologue.

"Mr. Odair?"

Finnick winked and proceeded to kiss the woman's hand. Peeta grimaced as he looked closely at her extravagant costume and make-up.

"Madame Trinket, how nice to finally meet you in person. This is my Peeta. Peeta, this is Madame Trinket. She'll be showing us around."

Peeta felt like running away, but decided a simple nod would suffice at the moment.

"My, my, my… you do have great taste Mr. Odair. I'm sure you'll know what you want as soon as you see it. Follow me."

"Please call me Finn."

Finnick saw fit to continue his flirtatious manner with the pompous woman as they walked through an empty corridor. Peeta rolled his eyes at this antics.

"As I recall, you wanted a virgin. We can attest to the fertility of the women. We have them examined thoroughly. No barren specimens are allowed here."

Peeta suddenly wondered what happened to the women that were deemed infertile. What was their purpose then?

"Yes, I want the best you've got."

At last, they had arrived at a door. Madame Trinket used a keypad to gain access to the room. As they entered a glass wall separated them from a group of young women.

"As you can see, we have plenty of diversity. Anything in particular in mind, Mr. Odair?"

Finnick got closer to the dividing glass, his eyes entranced on the women. Instead, Peeta felt claustrophobic inside that space. He wanted to leave that place. It wasn't right to stand there and choose a donor like they were clothes at the Flickerman's Emporium. But something caught his eye, a slight movement. His eyes followed it, hands kept fidgeting and touching the ends of a braid. Her hands looked worn and blistered. This was the hands of someone who had worked hard all her life. As his gaze looked closely, gray eyes glared back. Peeta stopped in his tracks, paralyzed.

"C-can they see us?"

Madame Trinket kept checking her nails, with a disinterested demeanor. At the interruption, she looked at Peeta briefly and turned back to her inspection.

"No, Mr. Mellark. They can't see inside this room. Have you seen something you like?"

Something, not someone.

"Yes, we have. I want the one with the braid and the lovely gray eyes, Madame Trinket."

Peeta shuddered, at Finnick's choice. He has chosen _her_? Had he been watching his reaction to the girl? Yes, she was too young. Why was she here? Peeta tried taking deep breaths, not to exacerbate the situation. Finnick was so in tuned with him, that his hand found his, assuring him everything would be all right.

"Are you sure, Mr. Odair? This is the moment for you to browse with care. After you sign the papers, there will be no return, until she delivers, of course."

Finnick squeezed Peeta's hand, and somehow he found the strength to squeeze in return.

"We want her. She will bear our first son."

Madame Trinket nodded, appeased. She touched her ear and talked to someone, giving instructions.

"If you have a daughter, we'll receive her here if she's found worthy. She'll do her duty, as all women are proud to do for the good of Panem. Now, I'd ask you to step outside. I'll be with you shortly. You may have some refreshments, as your specimen is readied for your pleasure."

They obliged and moved out of the confining room. Finnick looked relaxed, while Peeta paced.

"What's got you all riled up? No one is taking her from us. She belongs to us now. Don't fret, Peet. She's a dark beauty, isn't she? I knew the moment my eyes laid upon her that she was the one. As I was about to say something to you, I noticed you were staring right at her, which confirmed it for me. Who knows she might stay with us for a long while…"

Peeta sneered at no one. Had Finnick lost his sense? What if he fathered a girl? What then? She'd be shipped off to this godforsaken place to be prodded and studied, then if she was found satisfactory she would be auctioned to the highest bidder to be his breeding vessel. Was he the only that found this barbaric? He's own flesh and blood cast out, to be a slave…he'd better father a boy.

"What if it's a girl? Finn, I c-can't-"

Finnick pushed Peeta against the wall, his mouth bruising his lips. His eyes had closed, but slowly he opened them. His gaze spoke of warning. Brushing his tongue, in a whisper, "Bite your words deep within you. Never speak of this again, much less here where eyes and ears are everywhere." He pushed back, as a young waif of a girl interrupted them. She blushed at finding them in such heated embrace, unknowing of whispered warnings.

"Madame Trinket will be bringing your… selection, sirs. Would you like something to drink as you wait?"

Finnick turned back to Peeta, trying to reassure him things were fine. They were doing the right thing, what was expected of them. There was no reason to fear what the future would bring. Without his eyes leaving Peeta, he commanded, "Bring me the best champagne, we need to celebrate this day. Now leave us, for I have to please my Peeta… you're welcome to watch if you like…or not-"

The girl disappeared from their presence, as if scared of caught looking at them. Finnick grinned and chuckled in response, while Peeta pitied the girl.

"You should control yourself, Finn. And don't get any ideas. Surely, it can wait until we get home."

"Already imagining what it will be like from now on? The three of us in our bed, as you make our child inside her womb, my Peeta? For I am thinking just that…"

Finnick's hand grazed Peeta's cheek, moving to cradle his chin. As he was leaning to kiss his lover, Madame Trinket strode in, hauling behind her a protesting body. Barely clothed, they could see her heaving breast and down the nest of hair that covered her sex. Peeta wondered if it was to entice, for he felt his body respond to her near nakedness.

A probe was given by the servant girl, now cowering in their presence, to her mistress. With a flick of her wrist she struck the rebelling girl forcing her to her knees.

"Show respect you insolent wretch. These are your masters now. You must obey them. Always. Serve them right, make me proud to have taken you in, clothed you and fed you. Remember to serve them, is to serve the Republic of Panem. Your children will be the future men of esteem and honor. Now stand up, let them look at you up close. Don't make them change their minds. And YOU serve them their drinks! I'm surrounded by incompetent worms."

The horrid woman kept ranting without stopping, but in a lower voice, as if talking to herself. Peeta had an inkling that the woman was completely mad. Why wouldn't she be? With her job being the handing off of young women, to be reproductive slaves for the Capitol's high echelon.

Finnick didn't waste anytime testing his new acquired property. Her hair was dark, like the night sky, but soft freshly picked cotton on his hands. Her eyes stared stonily to the floor, as if it would give her the answers she was waiting for. He wanted to see the gray in them, almost like tainted diamonds.

"Straighten your head, look at me."

With reluctance she complied, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. Hate radiated from within, but it didn't matter. She would serve her purpose, that he knew. Her cheeks reddened with embarrassment, he thought. Her breathing was labored, and he couldn't stop himself for staring at her ripe nipples straining from the tissue like shift she was wearing.

"Peeta, come here. I want you to touch her."

Peeta came forward, wishing this would end. Finnick took the proffered drink and took a sip. His face showed his disapproval, but took another sip. Peeta approached the trembling girl with apprehension. He had never been this close to a woman before, much less seen what made them different from men.

"Don't be shy. She won't stop you. She can't stop you."

He didn't want to, but he felt compelled to touch her skin. His hand landed on her neck, where her blood pulsed frantically. She was scared…she feared them; what they would do to her. Peeta wanted to reassure her, but it was useless. Someday soon it would happen, and neither of them were free to stop it.

A huff and cough from Madame Trinket, alerted them to the fact the dreadful woman was still with them.

"Are you pleased then, Mr. Odair? I have other appointments waiting…if she is acceptable I would like to continue with my day, if you don't mind. Don't forget to pass through the vestibule to leave your donation."

"Of course, Effie darling. I'm pleased, and I'll be glad to deposit my generous donation, so you'll be able to keep your Hob as the best establishment. I would never dare to pick someone from the very streets, sold by a disgruntled interloper. Those men should be shot on sight for trying to ruin your business. Everyone knows there's no place like the Hob to find your perfect specimen. Have a good day. Peeta, let's go home."

Like an invisible line was pulling forward, their new property followed them without looking back. It wasn't until Madame Trinket saw fit to taunt her one last time.

"Katniss! Remember to open your legs wide for your young master. It won't do, if you keep them closed and they have to bind you to the bed. It is better if you willingly do as you're told. The rest will be painful, I'm afraid. There's no way you'll be wet enough to endure such cock thrusting."

Peeta was disgusted at her words, wishing he could forget he ever heard them. Finnick's face hid this dislike at the woman's parting words, but simply grinned back. As for Katniss, her anger bubbled inside her and she forgot her station. She moved towards her former mistress and slapped her hard. Her fingerprint was clearly defined on her face.

"It must be hell to be declared barren, unproductive, defective, unwanted. You will never know what is like to have a life inside you, to see it grow within you. No one wants you. No wonder you despise us, as we can attain what you'll never have. I pity you and curse you where you stand. May you die alone with no one to care for you."

Just as swiftly as the fire had burned, it simmered down to embers. Meekly she returned to her new masters, kneeling and waiting punishment for her unbecoming conduct.

"Goodbye, Effie dear."

Finnick turned around and walked away without addressing the woman kneeling at his feet. Peeta not knowing what to do, followed right along. Not without noticing how the mistress of the Hob, was now on her knees sobbing, her caked face had smeared. She was now truly horrifying.

Katniss. Katniss. Katniss.

Her name was Katniss, and she now belonged to them. She would bear them children until they tired of her. She was their property, their breeding vessel. A chill spread throughout his spine, at the thought of the dreaded act upon his shoulders… more accurately his cock. Would he feel pleasure? Or was it a painful ordeal on both parts? He knew what he would do, once they were home he would confess to Finn that he couldn't do it. The first child would have to be produced by him. That's it, he felt lighter and relaxed. Only it didn't last as he smell her scent. It was entrancing, almost like witchcraft. He wanted to taste her skin, to discern its flavor. All his worries forgotten, he pictured her completely naked, shyly waiting for him to take, to claim…

Nonsense, Finnick would do the taking, the claiming. He would refrain to simply be an observer in the ceremony of conception. He would lie on his back, as he held the vessel open for his lover to penetrate it, to fill it with his seed in hopes of procuring their child. He would give her to him, and watch. Just watch.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

He was standing right beside their bed. It represented the happiness he had experienced along Finnick, all these years. And now it was mocking him. Becoming the place where the act of conception would be consecrated. Finnick had brushed off his misgivings. It had to be the first to spill his seed inside her sieving womb. "It has to be a boy," Peeta kept repeating it in a loop inside his mind.

Kat, as Finnick liked to call her had been given her own room in their home. She barely made sounds, so for Peeta it was like she wasn't even there. It was Finnick that would invade her space, making sure she was fed and still breathing. Things between them were the same, as if no woman had invaded their domain. Sadly, biology and cycles had to intrude on their apparent blissful existence.

"She's ripe. You need to fuck her tonight, Peet. I'll be there with you…and I'll take care of you. These three nights are the best time for your seed to find its counterpart. Imagine we could be fathers in nine months…he'd have your ocean blue eyes, maybe he'll inherit your wheat colored hair, a total copy of you. And I'll love him so much…"

_Him_.

He will love _him_.

Night had come, and with it his citizen duties. His body had been freshly washed and oiled, smelling of sandalwood and pinch of cinnamon. His hair was a mess as Peeta kept running his fingers through it, in frustration. He was out of excuses, his predicament just a few minutes away from staring him, right in the face. Taking deep breaths, he reminded himself that it was natural act, that his body would conduct on its own. If he had problems with arousal, Finnick would help him.

A flimsy robe covered Kat… niss, as she walked in with her head down. Her ebony hair was down her back, past her waist with lovely curls at the ends. Peeta wanted to touch the ends, smell the scent of her neck to see if it would entice like the first time they met. Unbeknownst to him, his body reacted to her proximity. His pulse started to pound, as his breathing accelerated. Just first time nerves, Peeta told himself. He had trembled like a leaf the first time he'd been with Finnick. It had been wonderful in the end, nothing to regret. But this…he had no reference to fall back.

Finnick's scent assaulted his nostrils next, something familiar that hinted of treasured memories in this very room. He was bare, just like he was, looking a bit too excited. Katniss had stopped a few feet from the bed, hesitating for walking any closer. Finnick stood right behind her until his torso was flushed with her back. His arms searched for the opening of her robe and pushed it back, showing her breasts first, darken nipples as hard points in the air. An overwhelming compulsion demanded Peeta to take them into his mouth and bathe them with his tongue. His cock jutted proudly, straining from his abdomen. He stared bewildered at how hard he was, veins visible, even white liquid seeping from the bulbous head. He felt ashamed, seeing the physical proof of his betrayal. Finnick couldn't see he had succumbed so easily.

Meanwhile, Finnick was admiring his Kat. She was beautiful, for she would give him their first child, a boy who would resemble the man he loved. His hands caressed her engorged breasts, and he saw her will trying to control her involuntary reactions. His lips grazed her earlobe, "You will yield, give yourself to my Peeta. He will be kind, and I'll make sure you get your pleasure as well. Just let yourself go, feel my hands on your skin, nothing more. Don't think."

He led her to closer to the bed, without letting go he sat back on the bed, taking her with him. Once he had her positioned between his legs, he opened her up. He had seen a naked woman before… more like a girl, much like his Kat. She had been beautiful, but forbidden. It hadn't stop him from wanting her. With his back reclining on the headboard, he could see Peeta's troubled visage. Finnick had to assuage his fears, and give him confidence. In the midst of his perusal of their Kat, Peeta had attain arousal on its own. What a glorious sight, his erect cock made him salivate. Hmm, later Finn. You'll have him later, he thought.

"Peeta…Peeta, we are ready for you. Come here, baby. I've readied her for you."

Katniss felt trapped inside her own body. A treasonous one. It was attracted to her masters, to their masculine naked physiques. She didn't want to, but she felt herself flushed. They had taught her at the Hob all she needed to do was comply with her masters' commands, as they would do the rest. Just open your legs, let him enter you, close your eyes; think of your childhood with Prim, Father and Mother, she told herself.

Living free among others, loving whomever you wanted without fear of being snatched and turned into property. She hated having been born a woman. Outside of the outcast community her family had found shelter in, society dictated your life according to your sex. Women were just a means to an end, easily discarded after the deed was done. Her father had told her when she was old enough to comprehend, that being a man wasn't easier either. For him, it had been hell once he was matched to an older man. Her father had never felt attracted to males, so he resisted the union. The man didn't wait, only took what was his by right. Her father killed said man with his own hands, knowing his fate would be death. Only fate gifted him another chance, when he was sure he would perish in that forest, an angel saved him. She would become the mother of his two daughters and the love of his life.

If they hadn't been caught she would still be there. Probably married to Gale Hawthorne, with her belly distended with their third child. She would have been free. She would have had love. Tears spilled from her eyes, as she relived her parents' death and her capture. Her father's dead eyes she'll never forget. Yes, she hated being born a woman.

"No need for tears. We'll be gentle and we'll take good care of you, our Kat."

Unwanted hands brushed her tears away, as they returned to hold her closer to his writhing body. She felt his erection nudging her back. It made her tense in place, knowing she had to relent. Another set of hands took hold of her hips, her eyes opened startled. Blue eyes stared back, showing discomfort and disgust. It was mutual.

"Closer, Peeta."

The man behind her moved one of his hands towards the apex of her legs, his fingers probing with intend. She shifted moving away from his intruding fingers. The hands on her hips stopped her, as the fingers incited a burning deep inside her. A moan escaped her, alerting them that she was finally giving in.

"Take her, Peeta. She's y-yours. S-she's ready."

Finnick nuzzled her neck, taking in her scent. It was delicious and tempting him to partake in the coming activities. Peeta was a man on a mission, any hesitation on his part had vanished. He stared at her glistening sex in wonder. It certainly was different from fucking with Finn. Grinding his pelvis, he could feel the wetness. Katniss once again vocalized how pleasurable it felt, even against her trying to hold her moans by biting her lower lip hard. Peeta captured said lip and licked to sooth the redness. It tasted metallic, meaning she had broken the skin. Somehow this turned him on, seeing her distressed under him. He had to have her, to plunge into her, mark her as his. Nudging his member between her opened lower lips by Finnick's hands, he pushed forward, gliding until a membrane stopped him. It was no longer moans of pleasure, but of pain. He was hurting her. As he was about to pull back, Finnick's voice brought him back.

"You need to be careful now, Peeta. You need to push forward, do it gently as you possibly can. This is the proof our Kat had been untouched…until now. Slowly, push through it."

Her walls were trying to push him out, saying he was invading where he wasn't wanted. But he had to do this, he had to claim her. Her eyes opened and locked with his, beckoning him closer. Her lips moved, but no sound came out. What was she trying to say? Did she want him to stop?

Her hands took hold on Finnick's thighs, leaving imprints of her nails. She was ready, it was inevitable. Please, just do it already, Katniss mentally cried. She even voiced it silently, hoping it would soon be over.

"Look Peeta, our kitten likes to leave scratches behind. She's willing. Take what is yours. Make her ours, make our baby."

Ours.

Peeta swiftly thrust forward, encasing his cock completely inside her. Katniss gasped, her hands not giving enough hold. It burned so badly, she felt like she was being ruptured by hot poker.

"Stay still. Damn, Peet. I told you to go slow. Don't move. You better not have lacerated her walls, or you won't be able to fuck her tomorrow. There, there, my kitty Kat. I'll make it better in no time."

His hand searched for the bud under the hood, nestled there between her swollen lower lips. His fingers brushed Peeta's cock and he pushed even further. But Finnick was relentless in his pursuit to calm Katniss, to arouse her once more. His fingers slowly, but surely found the right places to caress, making her squirm and in turn making Peeta want to ram himself repeatedly on her.

"Pull back, not all the way out. Then push back in. Yes, … again. Fuck that's hot, baby. Keep that pace. Too bad, I would like to be fucking your ass, as you fuck her wet pussy."

Peeta gyrated his pelvis, pushed deeper. It was wonderful and mind-blowing. Having his love right there, seeing him do this; it sprung him on, inciting him towards completion. Katniss, could taste the scent of sex in the air, the sweat glistening on their bodies, of the body fluids interchanging. The pain was still there, but one of her masters knew how to mold her body, to trick it into submission. It was definitely true, that sex was the perfect mixture of pleasure and pain. Something was building, a crescendo of energy looking for a way out. It was too much.

"Come, baby."

Finnick had stopped fondling her bud, and had cradle Peeta's face, forcing it closer. He kissed the man forcefully, both grunting and moaning at the contact. Peeta could barely keep his pace, and floundered until he felt his spurting orgasm. He collapsed on top of Katniss, completely wiped out. His face was nestled on her neck. She tried to push him off, and turned her head away.

It was done.


	2. Part II

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Two more nights of the same, Katniss was an offering to be claimed, at the service of her masters. By the third night, there was no use to coax any response from her, as a numbness had encompassed all her body. Her mind was another matter. It rebelled at her passivity, allowing these acts committed against her will. But then she would see there looks between each other, the way they kissed. Were they monsters? Of was this just justifiable by the society they had been brought up in? It didn't matter, because she didn't matter in the end. Only the child, their child, she was just the breeding vessel.

"And now we wait. We are just weeks away from finding out if we are to be fathers! I can't hardly keep still… Kitty Kat, you can go. Good night." Finnick stretched on their bed, satisfied that in a couple of weeks they would get the greatest news. Peeta instead watched as Katniss wobbled out of their room. He wanted to help her, but he wasn't to sure it would be well received. He rubbed his face, at the same time catching her scent of his hands; it enticed him to taste. He almost did, right in front of his Finn. Opting to erase any trace of her body was a better choice. He cringed remembering the blood on his flaccid cock after the first time. Finnick had to calm him as he began to panic, thinking he had broken her apart from the inside. But it was all natural, it happens sometimes, he had said. How truly horrifying, Peeta thought, to be a woman.

The shower started on his command, always calibrated to the perfect temperature. Steam fogged the glass, it gave him a sense of closed bubble. No one could touch him here… it wasn't for long though. Finn had other ideas, than simply wait for him in their bedroom.

His lips found his neck, following up to his ear.

"Seeing you fucking her… never thought it would get me so hard. I want to consume you until I can't get hard anymore… Shit, Peet you fucking did it."

His hands followed the trails the water made down Peeta's chest. It was meant to be seductive, to entice him into a shower romp. Never in his life, Peeta would have thought he'd be disinclined to such acts of seduction. Finn's hand found that in fact he wasn't rising to the occasion.

"Tired, baby? Hmm… let me help you clean up. We can finish here and go back to bed."

Peeta could hear Finn's disappointment in his tone of voice, and could clearly feel his hard penis humping his lower back. He felt defective and selfish. Taking the initiative, his hand searched for Finnick's hip, encouraging him closer. Finnick moaned at the contact, he moved with clear intent of slaking his mounting desire.

Finnick pushed Peeta forward, using the wall as anchor. Fingers readied him for entry, it was like clockwork, this Peeta knew. This was familiar. It would help him forget her glazed eyes staring at the ceiling, enduring the act. It was the Law, Peeta tried to convince himself. He was obligated to do this… he whimpered as Finnick plunged into him. Flexing his hips, Finnick rocked into his Peeta with abandon. How he had wanted to be fucking him, as he fucked their Kat. But it was forbidden… only he was sure it happened behind closed doors. Maybe in the future, when Peeta was more acclimatized to her presence and Katniss was less skittish. No one would have to know what went on, in their bedroom. As he thought it, Finnick knew it was blasphemy. Yet, deep down he wished all these controls how they lived their lives would vanish.

By now, Peeta's cock was hard as rock, and in Finnick's hands. He kept rocking back and forth, coming out only leaving the tip inside, and plunging slowly back in. He had slowed his rhythm, no longer in fast-fucking mood. Inside his mind, Peeta pleaded for it to be over, he felt wretched, the guilt consuming him. He knew deep within, that what they had done was wrong. And yet, his body betrayed him… wanting more, always wanting more. He felt like a slave to his carnal desires. A change of angle in his thrusting, Finnick overwhelmed Peeta, leaving him breathless as he spurted against the tiled wall. Not far behind, Finnick grunted losing leverage and collapsing on Peeta's back. Pinned to the wall, Peeta searched for air and a way to cleanse his conscious, as his mind tortured him showing him once again those lifeless eyes.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

"How about Dorien Mellark-Odair? No? Let's see… Abercio Mellark-Odair. No, I'm not too keen on that one… Come on Peet, help me choose a name for our son."

Finnick took a sip of his coffee. He had to leave soon, or he would be late for his appointment with their district's mayor. A senile man, that was only still in his post, because of his partner. Their relationship was the classical example of unity and cooperation. As the mayor grew in years, his lover was right behind fixing his blunders. It was heartwarming and uplifting, to witness such devotion. Not everyone was so lucky to find their soulmate in their matched partners. Finnick's gaze searched for Peeta's, only Peeta was staring at the kitchen.

"Prometeo Mellark-Odair? Our son would resemble a deity. Or maybe we should just call him Peter, something mundane and ordinary. PEETA! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Peeta reacted by letting his fork clatter against his plate. He hadn't eaten at all, simply pushing around his scrambled eggs. Two weeks had gone by, still he felt guilt consuming him. He had been a coward, not approaching _her_. She was there in the background, yet no one mentioned her. It was the child, their son, the topic of conversation. Finnick kept voicing out names, all Greek in origin.

Peeta wondered what name would Katniss pick for her son… dangerous thoughts plagued him. He wanted to face her, somehow ask forgiveness for what he'd done. He missed seeing her gray eyes, since now she denied him access to them. The few instances they had crossed paths, she had scattered like a frightened mouse. While, Finn acted like nothing had changed. Well, nothing had indeed changed for him. He was still Finnick Odair, the best lobbyist in the Capitol, the best district, the most prosperous. The poor mayor didn't stand a chance this morning, when his lover pranced around relaying the new policies to be drafted, all for the sake of empowerment of the Republic of Panem. It repulsed him, as he could never be a kiss ass and spout lies to gain the favor of the privileged élite. What did they want now, he pondered. Everything was theirs for the taking. The other districts were the exporters of every little aspect of their lives, even the women.

"How about Gale Mellark? It means-"

The sound of chattering glass disturbed their breakfast. Peeta stood abruptly, hesitating whether to enter the kitchen, where the sound came from. Finnick cleaned his mouth of residue and stood as well.

"Are you all right? I think you should stay in today. You might be coming down with something. I'll be sure to come home right after I finish my scheduled meetings. Don't fret, I'm sure Old Mags will take care of it. That old bag might be a comfort to our Kat, as only women can. Leave them to it. I'll see you, this evening. Think on the names I mentioned."

Without much fuss, Finnick picked his briefcase and slammed the door. It brought Peeta back to life, as he had stood in the same place. Only the murmur of feminine voices could be heard and the scratching of a broom as it pushed the broken glass. Had something fallen of out of Old Mags hands? It was very probable, with her age, yet something in his gut told him it had been Katniss.

"I'm so sorry," Katniss blubbered between panting, as she tried to keep her panic at bay. From all the names, he had to choose Gale. Just thinking of it made her tremble. Taking hold of the counter, she forced herself to take deep breaths. Gale was most likely dead, for there was no way he would have complied with the Law. Gale Hawthorne had never known what the absence of freedom was like. He treasured like it, fully knowing how easily it could be taken. He had been lucky to have lived most of his life in the outer rims of the dreaded laws of the republic. His hatred for what Panem stood for, was something he would've died for. Seeing her being taken, must have stirred the deepest rebellion. Gale had been a fighter, and Katniss knew he had died as one.

"Don't worry, dear. It's just glass, totally replaceable. Now, I need for you to eat those eggs and that milk. We don't need a sickly woman. You need your strength for what's to come."

Mags was an older woman with salt and pepper hair, and the heart of a grandmother. Katniss never knew her, but she imagined she would have been like Old Mags. She had explained that as women grew older, their roles changed to other domestic duties. She was happy to be with the Odair boys, as she called them. Mags always tried to appease Katniss with soothing words and tales of long past. She had even told her of her own love story. Of how she had fallen for her master, a man who resembled master Finnick, for he was his father. She had warned Katniss that such affairs were forbidden by the Law, punishable to the extent of death if caught. But in her case it was unrequited, for the man never returned the feeling. Katniss asked if then she was Finnick's mother, and she simply shrugged and kept cleaning. Would she end up like Mags? Cleaning after her son, without him knowing or caring that she had bore him. Without noticing tears had spilled, as she reminisced about her childhood, how she had been fortunate to have her mother and father, to live with her sibling. She contemplated how many women had simply given up and taken their own lives.

"Shh… none of that now. You mustn't feel depressed, this child is a blessing. You'll see."

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Katniss was sitting in the indoor garden, singing to herself in a fail attempt to pacify her startled nerves. She simply couldn't forget Gale's face the last time she saw him. She was certain he wanted to say more… he wanted to ask for her to be his. She would have said yes. Life had other plans set in motion for her, none that included a life of her own.

"Is e-everything t-to your liking? D-do you need something in particular? I could-"

She had gone quiet, and it had given Peeta the chance to interrupt. Her skin turned from white to red to white in mere seconds, he got worried she would faint.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have disturb your singing… you have a lovely voice. I could hear it, and I simply had to come… I'll leave you be."

She cleared her throat, searching for the words to answer her master.

"Did I interfere with your slumber? Please forgive me, master. It wasn't my intention. I will retire to my room."

She stood ready to sprint to her room if possible, but his hand gripped her wrist, stopping her from moving any further. She wanted to brush his hand off, to scream at his face. She schooled her face to a façade of indifference. He can't hurt me anymore, if any deity cared for her, she would be free of him for the next nine months.

"Call me Peeta. Not master. Just Peeta. I'm deeply sorry for intruding. You may stay as long as you want. I guess it was foolish of me to think… never mind. I'm not usually at home. Even if my job isn't as prominent as Finn's, I do get commissions from people with too much money and time on their hands, for portraits. And now I'll shut up. Good day, Katniss."

Just as abruptly as he had appeared, Peeta left a bewildered Katniss behind. The only good thing he took from their encounter was her eyes ignite, even in a bottled rage.


	3. Part III

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

It was a catastrophe. She hated her damn body, that kept betraying her. There was no one in the universe that cared for her miserable life. The spots of blood, at the right time simply announced she wasn't pregnant. All this meant she had another three nights in their bed, enduring the rutting and panting on top and the moaning and humping on the back. Why couldn't they simply fuck each other? It was obvious they lusted for each other. She was superfluous… yet the Law stated any couple of able-bodied males had to procreate at least three offsprings in their lifetime. If the offspring was male, it would live with its fathers. If the child was female, she was shipped to another district. Or so says the Law. Katniss knew that not every female babe was spared from death. She had even heard from experienced women in the Hob, that some smothered their own baby if it was born a girl. They said it was better for them, there was no point birthing unwanted girls.

Mags tried to console Katniss, but there was nothing that could. As soon as the masters returned, she'd have to face them. Her menses cycle would decide the next time. It would please master Finnick, as he seemed obsessed with everything timed and scheduled to perfection. She wasn't too sure if she hated him the most. His hands knew how to ignite her want, those same hands held her, opened her for his lover, while the other mechanically rocked back and forth until he spilled inside her. Why couldn't she be classified as barren?

"I wish I had been found a barren woman."

"Bite your tongue, child. Never say such a thing. If a real barren woman had heard you… she'd strike you dead with her bare hands. Don't speak of such things. Be thankful you've found yourself at the hand of such masters. They will not be cruel. They won't share you, or ridicule you for their entertainment. Just be thankful."

Katniss wanted to retort, saying she was clearly insane. A woman who had loved her master was not going to understand.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

"Come with me, Peet. It's just one of those "party-ballthingies". I need there by my side, it would probably get me more pull to my side. Everyone adores us together, they can look but can't touch. They'd be imagining you and me together, all sweaty and panting. And the President Snow is gonna be there with his new toy that man has an insatiable appetite, it gotta be abnormal. Or he has trust issues… remember when he had that cute little thing permanently gagged. Such a pity, since he had great lips-"

"Stop! I'm not going to the gathering with you. I detest those parties with all those lecherous men, humping each in half-light. It's revolting. I'm sorry, but what good would I do there? I can't talk like you. You have them in the palm of your hand, as they slobber all over. I can't imagine what your life was like before I was matched to you…"

Finnick glared intensely at Peeta. Reminding him of his dark past, of how he had gained the favor of the Capitol's high society. He had been a toy himself, used and abused at the whim of random powerful men. It wasn't that long ago, but he wanted it buried and forgotten. He was a different man now, belonging to one man. A man who he loved passionately and was currently wounding him.

"E-enough. Fine, stay here. Maybe you'll strike up conversation with our kitty Kat. She surely has been doom and gloom since she bled. It might be a good idea for you to make her feel comfortable around you. And I'll try my best to find you more portraits you can paint. Who knows, maybe Snow himself will ask a painting from you. You sell yourself short, for you don't see how they covet you, my Peeta. You give them something they haven't got."

Peeta shuddered at the thought of being in the presence of their president, it would give him nightmares. The man was to be feared, for his ruthlessness and callousness. Rumors said Snow had killed more than one of his mated partners for things so petty as the color they wore. He waited to hear what was so special of his paintings, but Finnick stayed quiet in return.

"And that is?"

Finnick's face changed into a mischievous smirk, and got closer to Peeta. With his breath blowing in Peeta's face he whispered, "Beauty. They don't see, but you somehow give them beauty. It all stems from your beautiful soul… and of course your wrapping isn't an eyesore either. I'll see you later tonight. Do wait for me."

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Peeta found Katniss in the indoor garden, once again. This time she was staring at the full moon, as it provide enough light to walk around. She looked like she was glowing from the inside. He wanted to memorize the moment in his mind's eye, so later he could recreate it, immortalize it in charcoal and paper. Her gray eyes reflected a deep sadness, that he wanted to take away.

"Where are you Prim? Where did they take you? Are you still at the Hob? Are you even alive? I hope you're with mother and father… they will take care of you. Even if it hurts not seeing you again, it is better you be dead. This… this is no life, Prim. I'm but a property, a useful one. But when that purpose ends… what will happen with me? What of my child, Prim? Mags keeps warning me to accept my fate. But how can I give up my life? When I knew how life could be… maybe it would be a blessing if I rebelled and they sent me to another district or made me an Avox. Am I not a slave already? Damn this body and damn them all!"

Peeta hid in the shadows, perplexed at Katniss' emotional tirade. This Prim, must be his sister, to whom she was supposedly confessing. Her words felt like burning punctures to his chest. She was truly miserable in their home, in their lives. What was the point of the Hob, if the women came out of it like this? What life did she had, that she still yearns for it. Did she prefer death, to this existence? There was no way he would approach her tonight, as her sobs surrounded. She had collapsed to her knees, all her energy depleted.

She despised him, certainly wished him death. If anyone else had heard her words… she'd be severely punished according to the Law. All were held against it, all were bound to it. Peeta had never questioned Katniss' purpose as a breeding vessel. It was the _status quo_; women were meant to serve the men, their organs the producers of future generations of men.

Until now.

"Katniss…"

"Leave me alone."

"Who's Prim?"

She glared at the direction from Peeta's voice, as he still hid in the shadows. Slowly, she gained strength to stand up.

"It is my past. You don't own my past. And if it's not against your wishes master, I will retire to my room." Suddenly, Peeta was right in front of her, his hands grazing her arms. "Please… I need to know more about you… why you're so sad. I want to help you-"

Katniss shook him off and turned her back on his determined eyes boring inside her.

"Did you know your mother? Did she take care of you? Tuck you in? Sing to you when you were afraid at night? I miss my mother. She died at the hands of men who found our home. They killed my father… he was the best man, for he fought his way of the Law. He found love with my mother, and he never regretted it, not even in death. His only fear was seeing us chained and taken away… to be slaves, to be your breeding vessels! He died in that moment, not when his head was decapitated. Prim… is my sister. I don't know what's become of her. I wish with all strength that she's died… even if I don't see her again. It is a preferable fate, than mine."

Only the sound of the nightlight insects surrounded them in the little sanctuary. Peeta was frozen in place, and speechless for a couple of minutes.

"I-I never knew my mother. My father, well he didn't care much for me… he was glad when I was of age and sent to the academy to learn a trade. It didn't help much, as I didn't have much interest for the privileged occupations. He wanted me to become a renewed architect, and all I amounted to be was a so-so painter. My drawings were appreciated by my teachers and that got me some recognition, but never in his eyes. My life changed the moment it was linked to Finnick… the matchmaker said we would be very happy together. He wasn't wrong. These three years have been the best of my life until…"

Katniss turned back to him, her gaze settling on his face. "Until the Law intruded on your blissful happiness, dictating you had to procreate with a woman," Katniss spat in response.

Peeta shrugged and said, "I was unprepared for all of it. And I didn't want to be the one… but Finnick wanted our first child to be fathered by me. I acquiesced to his wishes. I take this moment, to express my apologies to you. It was never my intention to make you feel imprisoned under me… if I could-"

Rage boiled inside her as his patronizing manner, "You'd what? Give me my freedom? Set me free? Please, don't try to lessen your guilt with meaningless words."

"I want you… and I hate you! You confuse me, and are always in my mind. What have you done to me? I fear that this will ruin the life I have… but somehow I care about you, what will happen to you, Katniss. Maybe your right, it is my guilt. Or maybe it is something else rotting me from the inside."

Katniss huff in derision, fed up with his melodrama. "Quit your griping, master. I'll do my duty next time, letting you deposit your seed on your breeding vessel. Be sure to be efficient, so it will be the last time. In nine months you and your Finn will get your son. There's no need to fret over a woman, who's just a property and can be easily replaced. Don't let your insides rot over insignificant me."

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

"Good you waited for me… for I've been craving you all night long. You're right, those parties are getting more boring and outrageous. And the President's avox, poor thing, I felt sorry for him. He-"

"Is that what an Avox is?"

Finnick frowned at Peeta, not liking his interruption and dire mood. He had other things in mind for the two of them and a very spacious, comfortable bed.

"I told you that the President had a new toy, a young man… but supposedly he'd been disobedient. Snow had the boy's tongue removed and his mouth sown shut. I don't think that's a great idea, I mean his mouth is not functional. No oral," Finnick shook his head. Peeta was appalled at his response.

"Is that all that you see wrong with that? It is inhuman, you should promote new amendments to the Law. How will that man eat now? Now, he's just a hole to be fucked for the President's pleasure."

"He also serves the President's guests, Peeta. It is his fate and punishment. Why do you care for avox's rights? It is a very old punishment implemented on rare occasions. And it would be foolhardy of me to stir the pot looking for changes to the Law, much less for the abolishment of such practice."

Peeta didn't relent in his point, and tried another approach, "What if it was you Finn? What if you had displeased your master? Wouldn't you want a reprieve? There has to be another way… the Law isn't infallible."

Finnick's clenched his fists, wanting to punch something, or someone. It was a low blow, Peeta using his past to persuade and manipulate his feelings. So tonight he'd be sleeping somewhere else, and find no release in the arms of his lover.

"This is the way things are, and will be. Never, I mean never say the Law isn't correct. As a citizen, I'm bound to inform on your crime… but I won't. Be thankful, no one else heard for they won't be as merciful, Peeta. I'll be sleeping in another room tonight."


	4. Part IV

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

The date had arrived. Katniss barely ate that morning, and throughout the day Mags tried to push food into her mouth with not much luck. Just thinking of their bed, the sensation of being held and taken, fucked repeatedly for the next three nights made Katniss want to slit her wrist and just bleed. Sleep eluded her most nights, thinking of a way out. Maybe she could convince them to let her go, find someone else. Then she thought how cruel of her to think of such a thing. Was it right to want to force this on another woman?

Mags loved being in that house, taking care of her boys. Katniss could see how bright her eyes turned when Finnick was in the room. It was the only time she seemed alive. And how she dotted on him, as if he was still a little boy. It both infuriated and saddened her, to see an old woman's life reduced to a few minutes. Finnick didn't really pay attention to her or thanked her. It was a given to him, that the woman was there to serve him until her last breath. If only she had the courage to kill them in their sleep, only she would know Mags wouldn't follow. She'd probably kill herself and die beside her beloved Finn.

"Stop thinking, child. You need to be relaxed for tonight. It will not help matters if you stress yourself and another months goes by without the seed taking hold. You want it to stop, then let it take its intended course. Sometimes giving in, is a way to finding true happiness."

Katniss managed a small smile, but not really meaning it. Empty words, that brought no comfort to her. Give in? Had she not been a good girl? She left the old woman to her cooking and went to the only place she found solace, the garden. Coming to this place was the closest she could get to feeling outside. The opened space allowed to breeze and the birds to enter. The trees and flowers were her best companions. Here, she could trick herself that she had gone to the meadow hiding from her sister. She could almost listen to her giggles and taunts, that she would make Gale fall in love with her and take him from Katniss. But Katniss didn't believe her, as she clearly knew her sister had her eyes set on another Hawthorne male.

"Katniss…"

"Katniss…"

"Prim?"

Heavy footsteps alerted her that she wasn't alone anymore. It was the blonde man, the one who preferred being called Peeta. He seemed fond of following her around, lurking in the shadows if he was at home. It unnerved her.

"Mags said supper is ready. She told me you'd be here. I'm sure you're hungry-"

Katniss sneered at the darkened sky, fully knowing that Mags had ratted her out. She turned and almost collapsed back, saved by the hold of strong hands. It had been him, he'd gotten so close. Embarrassed, Katniss avoided looking into the bluest eyes she'd ever seen.

"I'll be right in, master."

She tried to shake of his grip, but it loosened on its own. Temptation was too great and her eyes locked with his. He felt hesitant and ready to bolt out of the garden. Why? It was his house, and she was the slave. Peeta Mellark was truly confusing… and unfortunately very alluring. She could taste on her mouth his scent mixed with sweat. She noticed his hands were smudged with fresh paint and were dark with charcoal. Checking her arms, there were traces of the material.

"Sorry 'bout that. I'll leave you now. Need to clean up or Mags will more than likely try to give me a bath herself. Ah, I'll see you later, Katniss."

One of his hands twitched, like he wanted to touch her again but held back. Once he left the garden, Katniss was able to breathe again. Yes, he was handsome, but he was her enemy. Remember that, Katniss said as she hit her forehead.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Katniss knew what awaited behind that closed-door, yet she was shaking and on the brink of a crying fit. Mags kissed her on the cheek and held her hands.

"Think of the babe, darling girl. It will be loved, and if you led it maybe you'll be able to love him too. Wouldn't that be wonderful? It could have been so much worse fate… Now, my only advice give over to sensation. Don't think, feel."

At her last word, the door opened, Finnick was there in his robe, "Thanks Mags. Welcome Katniss, please come in. We're waiting anxiously for you."

The door closed behind her, and it made her jump. It was like she hadn't been conscious of her actions for a few seconds. Something in the air, a different smell surrounded them. As she inhaled again, her body relaxed. Hands pushed her robe off her body, she only felt it caress her skin as it fell and pooled at her feet. It felt soothing on her skin, and her mind was empty. Nothing was troubling her anymore. Someone was lying on the bed, he was naked. Katniss thought he was sleeping, until Finnick left her at the foot of the bed, he bent over the man and whispered in his ear. The man stirred from his rest and abruptly sat up. Blue eyes stared right at her, looking over her nakedness. It was Peeta, only he didn't seem like him.

Peeta felt like he was in a trance, as he was sure it wasn't possible to see a field of wildflowers and a naked Katniss in his room. At least this time she didn't look like prey ready for the slaughter. He didn't know if this made it easier on him. His body sure wanted her again. Finnick licked his earlobe, trying to get his attention.

"Tonight… I want it to be different. It's only us, no one will know… aren't you a bit curious, my Peet?"

In the haze he was under, Peeta didn't comprehend what Finnick was implying.

"W-what?"

Brushing his lips against his jaw line, Finnick proceeded to explain his plan, "Look at her, Peeta. She's ours. Imagine, she's under you, as you fuck her, and I fuck that ass of yours. Seems fair, doesn't it? Fuck the Law. I want you, and you want her. Simple. No one will ever know."

Finnick's hand trailed down Peeta's chest until he reached the v line of his hips, almost touching his erect cock. It had hardened at the visual Finnick's words had caused. Peeta's heart was ready to burst out of his chest. He wasn't sure if he was at risk of dying. He was about to protest, but Finnick's fingers gripped his penis in retaliation.

"This cock is mine. I want it to fuck this woman, and I'll fuck you. There's no need for discussion, Peeta. There's no need for fears. I'll protect you with my life, as I know you would do for me. Just let yourself feel."

With little resistance Peeta accepted, as Finnick kissed him passionately taking his tongue between his teeth sucking on it. Drawing back, he pecked Peeta's swollen lips. But he wasn't finished. Finnick went lower, to be right beside Peeta's cock. Opening his mouth he lowered himself over it, causing Peeta to groan in pleasure. His hands clutched the sheets, trying to hold back his need to thrust up. Finnick sucked once, twice and then opened his mouth letting his tongue caress him. Finally, he whispered, "Mine." It was almost enough to cause Peeta to come.

Standing up, Finnick turned his attention to his Kat. She was beautiful, but too shy. That needed to be remedied, he thought. He took notice that she looked relaxed, meaning the fumes had gotten to her. She would give in tonight, no resistance would be met. With just shove she moved forward, with simple commands she was in the bed.

"Good kitty Kat. Look at her Peeta, see how good she's being. She needs to be rewarded. And you need to be rewarded to, Peet. Do as I showed you. Slowly."

Peeta changed his place, now on top but closer to her opened sex. With the pad of his finger he touched under the hood. Katniss twitched. He wanted to taste her breasts, so his mouth found itself locked on one of her nipples. He sucked harder, as his fingers found wetness. One finger entered her, feeling the snug fit of the canal. He couldn't hurt her again. His mouth kissed a trail up to her neck, feeling her pulse under his lips.

"Katniss… I don't want to hurt you…"

But the need, it was begging for satisfaction. His wet fingers, he brought into his mouth taking her inside. Her taste was so different from Finn's. He wanted to taste her directly, but there was no time. Finnick was at his back waiting, he could feel his hands and fingers coaxing him into action. Fingers probed him, readying him for Finnick to take him. Checking again, he found Katniss' sex was wet, using this as lubrication he rubbed himself. Please, make this work, Peeta begged. The head of his penis entered, and this time there was no thin barrier to stop him only the walls trying to push him out.

"Rub her harder, Peet."

Following the instruction, Peeta massaged the bud, as Katniss moaned back. Her legs opened wider, and her eyes closed. All this time she seemed like in a daze, as if she wasn't really there. Somehow, doing as Mags had told her had been easier than she thought.

Peeta pushed forward, and it the very same time Finnick entered him. Both men grunted, overwhelmed. Peeta was sure he would come at any second, while Finnick couldn't think or move. But it was Finnick who moved first, slowly at first. It was Katniss's hands on his chest that made him move. It understood the touch as her wanting him, so he complied. Her walls held him now, wanting to keep him inside, welcoming. He didn't' want to leave. Her legs found themselves holding Peeta closer, and Finnick used them as leverage to push deeper. The moans and pants cheered them on, as a rhythm developed between them. Peeta felt compelled to kiss Katniss, finding her opened mouth blindly. Her moans were now his for the taking, swallowing her cries of pleasure. It wasn't going to last for long, it was too much. This time she would experience bliss at his hand. Swiveling his hips, caused even more pleasure at the place he and Finn were joined.

Katniss was almost there, she felt like she was burning up. Something was about to give, find an escape from within. Harder thrust and the swipe of a finger and she was there. A release, followed by a silent scream torn from her chest. Nothing else mattered to her, not the men that fucked right on top of her or the why her existence. She was light. And for a few precious seconds, she'd been free.

Peeta had never felt such a rush, as he emptied himself. Finnick was holding his weight on his arms, but finally untangled himself and fell on his side, panting and cursing. It was the first time they'd all come, and at the same time too.

"Fuck… that was so intense. I bet she fucking clenched your cock, for you sure as hell did mine. I feared you'd bite the fucker off. Those old, bald fuckers have outlawed this… Fuck, baby…"

As Peeta moved off Katniss, he observed comfortable she looked on their bed. Her face looked rosy and fresh. Freshly fucked, he thought. Even he could see a smile on formed on her lips. It caused Peeta to smile back, he'd done that. He wanted to do it again… He had two more nights, to pleasure her, to make her his. After that, he didn't know if he had another chance.

"What's got you smiling, my Peet? Oh, I know… you made her come. Now, I want to make you come… in my mouth. Let's clean ourselves off, and let kitty Kat sleep. She'll be here."

As they walked to their bathroom, Peeta sensed something, an intuition. This feeling, was a foreboding, the beginning of the end. What was ending? Did breaking the Law this time would result in a chain reaction? But who would pay the consequences of said disobedience? The future only knows.


	5. Part V

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

He was surrounded by her. Her stare, wishing he died on the spot. Her hair, long and dark ensnaring him to her, entangled in his fingers, when she was under him writhing and whimpering. Her braid signified her closed off persona, her everyday armor. The curve of her breast, as she silently screamed in pleasure. Her sex opened and inviting him in. He had drawn every aspect of his Katniss… but she wasn't his. Not really, how could he claim her when he belonged to someone else? She was theirs, for the sole purpose of procreation. Yet, he yearned for Katniss. If his seed had taken root inside her, Peeta had no right to seek her.

Every piece of paper in his studio was covered with some moment he wanted to capture. It was obscene and completely condemnable according to the Law. Focus damn it, Peeta mentally berated himself. If his patrons came for an impromptu visit, he had no real evidence of his progress. Breathing deeply, he tried to mentally prepare himself. It didn't' work much, as he had stolen Katniss' robe. He felt the silky texture of the material, imagining it touching her skin. He wanted her again, and again. He proceeded to bring the collar up to his nose, inhaling the remnant traces of her scent. His mind conjured up a reel, he could see her enjoying herself as he pushed deeper looking for the greatest pleasure. As Peeta was about to open his pants to relieve himself, a knock on the door stopped him.

"Shit…shit… Just a moment!"

The door handle jiggled and then a voice from behind, "It's me Peet. Open up!" Bigger shit, Peeta thought. It was Finn, he probably wanted to take him to lunch. It wasn't unusual for them to see each other during the day. But, he simply couldn't open the door, not in the state the room was in or himself. Running around like a headless chicken, Peeta tried to pick up any trace of his compulsive drawings of his obsession with Katniss. He hid them in the armoire, under the sofa and in drawers in his desk.

"What's taking so long? Do you have someone modeling for you? Maybe, I should come back-"

Peeta opened the door just in time, as Finnick was about to turn and leave. "Sorry, ah… I, well the place was a mess… so I was trying to clean up a bit," Peeta shrugged. Finnick furrowed his forehead in confusion. It was an odd reaction, for Peeta to feel the need to clean his messes. Finnick was quite accustomed to his disorganization. Besides, he liked seeing him work his genius talent. He had hoped to find him in mid-stroke, creating his latest masterpiece. Then, he would have proceeded to relieve him of his clothes and fuck him on their minuscule bed that faced the open window. Yeah, let's give something to talk to the envious neighbors, Finnick mused.

"Are you hiding something?"

Peeta blanched at the question, and averted his eyes looking anywhere but at Finnick.

"No, its just I haven't been able to develop this piece. I'm having a hard time envisioning it and translating it on canvas. I can't fuck it up it's for a very important client."

Since, he wasn't paying attention to Finnick, he was startled to feel Finnick's lips on his neck. "Anyone I know? I bet me talking about you in that horrid party got you new clients… What can I say? I can be very persuasive…"

"Heavensbee wants a new portrait of his latest son…"

Hearing that name stopped Finnick's seduction, as he flinched and felt a chill run down his spine. He was glad life had been kind to him when he was granted Peeta, but he had suffered enough before. Heavensbee was high in the Capitol's food chain, with complete access to President Snow, meaning he had his ear and favor. How he escaped his clutches was still a mystery to Finnick.

Peeta noticed how pale Finn had turned. He was ignorant of how this man had really hurt his Finn, and he felt guilty for dropping his name so carelessly.

"And I have a second portrait… this one is for President Snow. His assistant came by with his request. I was stunned, never thought my reputation would be of so high regard to gain Snow as a client. But imagine if I make a fool of myself, I'll be shot in the town square, the first public execution in twenty years."

Finnick acknowledged Peeta's failing attempt at humor, "You need the best materials for both pieces. I'll help with that. And no you won't be the first executed man, Panem would rebel at such act. With your face and ass, it would be a crime to deprive the world of such work of natural beauty. Most men nowadays are fake creations concocted by that deranged Dr. Aurelius. I'm sure he's about a hundred and must have a thousand avoxes working under him."

Peeta chuckled at Finnick's exaggeration and better take on humor. "That's total bullshit, if we compared you're the rarer beauty, and I surely would rebel if such atrocity came to be. And how would you imply that crackpot doctor is older and has more slaves than Snow?"

Finnick shook his head laughing at their absurd conversation. "Getting back on track, I came here to take you out to lunch… But you need to change, that smudge shirt won't do. Go clean up a bit, I'll be waiting here. I promise I won't go back there and molest you, if I do then we won't leave until sundown."

Peeta followed Finnick's request and left him alone. Finnick looked around, seeing everything had been set aside in Peeta's intent to make the room more presentable. It irked him. There had to be reason, something he wanted to keep for himself, a secret. He walked around the room inspecting, searching for any clues. A gust of wind pushed through the opened window, causing the sheer curtains to flutter and crumpled paper to drop on the floor. Finnick followed the sound and found it. His hands opened it. At first sight he knew who it was. It was Kat, their Kat. Only this was how Peeta saw her, a gorgeous woman came alive on paper with precise charcoal strokes depicting every detail of her face, her eyes, her nose, her lips, her chin. If he had added color, it would be a photograph. Finnick crumpled it again, his hand in an angry fist. Something inside him started to bleed. He was to blame. He brought her into their home. He opened her to his Peet, asked him to fuck her. Why didn't he listen when Peeta said he didn't want to be the one? Finnick no longer felt secure in his place as Peeta's companion. A stranger had invaded that place, cemented doubt and jealousy.

"I'm ready. Where are we going? Don't tell me… Where going to meet with Cinna and Flavius?"

Finnick artfully hid the evidence and turned smirking, "Yes, you know they are dying to see you. They want to prepare us for impending fatherhood, as they have been blessed with two rambunctious boys. And probably to gossip about the party and who knows what else. Come."

Finnick beckoned Peeta to come closer with his hand, he complied. His lips descended on Peeta, devouring him. His hands gripped his tousled hair holding his head at angle, so Finnick had easier access to Peeta's mouth. In the tangle of tongues, Finnick bit the lower lip, hard. Peeta opened his eyes and locked his gaze on Finn's. A warning of sorts, with no words was transmitted. Finnick mentally screamed, MINE MINE MINE, while Peeta feared his eyes revealed his betrayal.

His tongue soothed the inflamed lip, licking it slowly, Finnick took one step back with his hands still entangled in Peeta's hair. Leaning his forehead on Peeta's, eye to eye, Finnick finally spoke, "Don't you ever forget it. I love you, Peeta. You are mine. All of you, as I am yours."


	6. Part VI

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Katniss tried to help Mags with her house work, but she wouldn't budge. She believed it was hers alone to do. It left Katniss with pretty much nothing to occupy her time, and allow her mind to ruminate on her future. If she was pregnant by next month, it would mean she was free from their bed. It also meant she'd be examined to determine the sex of the baby. Some many scenarios went through her head, it made her ache with loneliness. She missed her sister terribly, as she was her only real friend. Now, she had no one to confide in. Mags was not her equal, in age or experiences. There views on their roles was completely different, therefore Katniss avoided addressing that subject.

She had been brought up free from the indoctrination and socialization that most women endured. Her father as a renegade had created a place of harmony, where her mother was his equal partner and they loved each other. Looking out the window she would barely see a woman, much less a girl walking the streets. Women were hidden away, behind closed doors, like she was always waiting. How long would she stay in this house? How many children would she give birth to this particular couple? Would they sell her at open auction? If she didn't behave would they beat her to death or send her to be publicly admonished? The Hob had been her home for so many months, maybe more than a year. It was in that place, where Katniss learned the truth of her condition, the burden of being born a woman.

The Law stated women had no rights, their place in the Republic of Panem was subservient under the male, to copulate for reproduction, the production of generations of healthy men. It was their main purpose, as property of the man or men who selected her. If she was found barren or too old for reproduction, the women were sent to other districts specialized in mass production of products needed throughout the Republic, like agriculture and textile. Other labors were left to the tried and judged as criminals and rebels against Panem, males who'd neglected to serve as honorable men.

Her father was deemed one of those, had been lucky to escape and find himself a little piece of land to claim very far from the Capitol and his old life. It had been eighteen wonderful years living in a forest, a cabin by a lake. He had taught her how to hunt and survive in the wild. She was as strong as Gale and could best him at everything. But the Law stated, as a woman, she was nothing but a breeding vessel; her sole purpose to breed strong males for the Republic.

And here was her other conflict, to breed other women to be marginalized and enslaved. Could she allow her own flesh and blood to be taken from her and imprisoned in the Hob? Would she simply open her legs once more and allow seed to take hold and start the cycle all over again? As her stress kept mounting, her fingernails were practically nonexistent, as stubs were left. As for her room, the cell that contained her bed and plain clothes she only used for sleep. The rest of her time she spent it at the indoor garden. Here she could feel the wind on her skin and touch living things. And like it had happened in the past, Katniss would talk to the open sky, as if her sister could listen. She told her of her fears, of her dreams that had been destroyed at the hands of the men that found them. She reminisced about how their lives had been an illusion, doomed to fail. She tried not to think of Gale, and his family. She often found herself wondering if he'd been fortunate to escape. She wished he'd find a good woman, one better than her, who'd be waiting for him at their little cabin, rocking a beautiful baby boy in her arms. It all seemed so real in her mind, if only she thought.

"Just ten days and I'll know Prim… I'm scared. I don't know what to wish for, if in indeed a child grows within me please let it be a boy. If not… I'll kill myself, Prim. You have to forgive me, but I simply can't withstand this, for I'm sure they'll send me back to the Hob… to that horrid woman, who'll spit on my face and enjoy my misfortune. She'll send me to another couple, and surely they won't be so accommodating. Please Prim, pray for a boy…"

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Peeta couldn't stay any longer on his studio. He hadn't progressed on his appointed portraits and the deadlines where hanging over his head. He called Mags and told her he was coming home, and to air the attic. It was his former place, where he still had his old things lying around. The window in the middle of the room would allow him to spy on Katniss and her visits to the garden. It was the perfect solution to his predicament, as he would be close to her and he could then work. He had done a study of the Heavensbee's son, a pump five month old boy with ringlets of dark brown hair, with blue-gray eyes. The child had smiled at him, as he started to draw his profile. After five minutes, Peeta had stopped drawing and had succumbed to holding the baby and letting him play with his smudged fingers.

It had been the first time he'd seen himself wanting this, wanting to be a father. It thrilled him, as it unnerved him knowing how this would unfold. A woman, his Katniss had been selected to be birth him his son, but she would not be there to take care of him, share the joys of taking care of their son. As he looked around the opulent Heavensbee household, there was no signs of the mother. It wasn't uncommon for women to be used once and then discarded for another with different looks. The older portrait hanging at the main entranced presented the happily family of Heavensbee and his husband, and their three-year old son, Mathias. No woman was part of it, and by the appearance of the older brother it was more than likely that they didn't share the same mother.

High ranking men were allowed to procreate the maximum of three male offsprings, every three years. If a girl was born, she'd be examined and ranked, sent to the corresponding institution. Not all women were regarded as breeding vessels, if found esthetically unpleasing or if they had physical defects. Their fate was sealed from birth to probably die or be sterilized, and sent as work force for the manufacturing districts.

"How is your partner, Mr. Mellark?"

Peeta continued to smile at the baby, rocking him side to side. "He's good, sir. Working hard to keep things running smoothly. You know better than me, I'm sure. Well, I think I've taken enough of your time today. If I need more time spent with your son, I'll let you know before hand."

"He's the best, you were very lucky indeed to find yourself matched to Finnick Odair. No one is as loyal and as handsome. I heard through the rumor mill that both of you went on a visit to Madame Trinket not that long ago. Has it been three years already? My how time flies… I'm getting old, and poor Mathias better grow up so he can inherit all this."

Peeta laughed with the middle-aged man, who's pouch jiggled as he chucked louder.

"I'm sure you're not that old, with a healthy baby boy as a son, Heavensbee. As for the rumor… yes, we are currently waiting to see if we'll be parents soon."

Heavensbee stared at Peeta for a few seconds, then said, "I'm sure he'll be the most gorgeous of Capitol's men, coming from a father like Finnick Odair. He'll be a legend…"

Peeta was starting to feel uncomfortable, and gave the baby back to its father. He cleared his throat, "I-I'm actually the one… Have a good day, sir. I'm hoping to finish before the deadline, wouldn't want you to have that gathering without the portrait hanging in place for all to admire."

"Don't forget to say my congratulations to _your_ Finnick on his impending fatherhood. And good luck on your other charge, that other painting must be on your mind, after all it is for our dear President."

The condescending manner in which he spoke, befuddled Peeta in why he had been chosen. It was clear Heavensbee didn't particularly liked him, as his tone clearly expressed his predilection of Peeta's lover. And then reminding him of the other pairing, it was like stabbing him where it hurt. He didn't want to do it, but he couldn't refuse. This particular piece was gonna give him nightmares.

Taking some fresh air, helped him feel better, and knowing he was walking towards his home was even more uplifting. He would see Katniss, and then work on the baby's portrait, Darius Heavensbee-Undersee. He practically ran all the way, slamming the door open startling poor old Mags in the process.

"What's wrong? Is Finnick hurt?"

Peeta hugged her tight, and kissed her wrinkled forehead. The woman cared for him, but her love and attention were reserved for the green-eyed man who own his heart… Peeta shook his head in response, "You know he's healthy as can be, the way you coddle him, indulging his every whim. He's a grown man, Mags, let him fed for himself for a few days… and hear the complaints!" She smiled and gave him a chuckle, tugging on his cheek.

"You dear boy are the moon and stars for my boy. Don't go breaking his heart, you hear."

Peeta averted his eyes, and tried to look at the kitchen and what smelled so good.

"No peeking, I've done as you asked. The room is a pigsty, but it's your problem. Are you even listening to me? Peeta!"

He had looked for Katniss, but she wasn't around. He hoped she was sitting at her preferred place, the bench beside the small fountain. Was he late to listen to her speaking to her sister? What was worrying her today? It was the main reason for him to come home, even if he tried to deny it to himself. But it was the only way to learn about her, as otherwise she was selectively mute and distant.

The room smelled of lavender and chamomile and the window was wide opened. Mags assessment of the mess was exact, meaning he'd be working on sorting this out first. Taking off his shirt, Peeta went to the windowsill and took a moment to observe the garden. He wasn't disappointed, for Katniss was making some sort of crown made of flowers she had picked from the garden. She was murmuring, probably talking with her Prim. Speak louder, Peeta mentally commanded and as if she had heard him, Katniss announced she had finished it.

"Look Prim just like you like them. Every spring you would nag me to make you one, tugging on my arm until I relented and went to pick wild flowers with you. Today, I'll be wearing them in your honor."

Peeta's hands found a notebook and started to trace and draw the scene down below, how her face smiled to the sky and how he wished she'd do once for him.

Katniss started to twirl, imitating the way Prim would often do, making herself dizzy. She had overdone it, causing her to lose her balance and fall. Her frightened scream alerted Peeta, causing him to sprint down the stairs and find her still on the floor. His arms hold her to his chest, taking in her scent and enjoying having her in his arms. Katniss too stunned allowed his hold longer than she would've liked.

"I'm fine. You may let go, master."

As Peeta loosened his hold, Katniss noticed his lack of shirt. Her face flushed, causing her even more embarrassment. She tried to look away, but her eyes betrayed her. In the light of day, she could see he had muscles, the indentations clearly defined on his torso and abdomen with a spattering of dark blonde hair. She had touched that chest unintentionally more than once, and here it was right in front of her. Katniss' felt how her breath got ragged and her eyes glazed over, as her mind decided to play tricks on her. She was back in that bed, and he was on top of her. Her hands were entangled in his sweaty hair, as his lips tortured her neck. He was marking her. Please stop, she had said. But no one could hear, not even her. She was silent.

A touch on her cheek brought her back to the present. His eyes looked darker and concerned. As he tried to get closer, Katniss moved back and used her hands as barrier.

"I-I'm fine. Just let me pass, master."

"Peeta. I wanted to make sure you didn't hurt yourself or hit your head. Are you having trouble with your vision? Feeling nauseous? Mags!"

"Don't! Let that woman alone. She has enough things to do… I didn't hit my head. I was just being silly and got dizzy. Nothing to worry about. I'll go to my room and rest until supper."

Peeta was still in her way, and she didn't dare touch him. He was also panting. Had he run to her? Where was he? Why was he home? Keeping her eyes on his face, "Peeta, I promise to rest." As this interlude took place, they were being watched.

"You need to be careful… soon we'll know if… I thought maybe this had been a dizzy spell caused by-"

Both of them turned to the sound of the slamming door. Finnick had arrived, and by the sound of it not in a celebratory mood. Peeta's hands grabbed Katniss', "Things will be better, Katniss. I promise they will." Just as swiftly as he had come, he left her alone. She could hear them talking, and kissing. Everyday it was the same. And all she as company was the incessant waiting.


	7. Part VII

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Finnick kept drinking the sour drink, hoping it would make him forget. But nothing could erase the image engraved in his mind. His Peeta had grown attached to a woman. He'd been standing there, practically naked, panting and worried over her. Wasn't it enough that he had claimed ownership of his Peeta in front of her? Did she want to be reminded? Maybe it was Peeta who needed to be schooled on how wrong this infatuation was. It was unlawful, and it was a betrayal to their declared vows. They sore their love and faithfulness, at their matching ceremony. Not everyone promised it. It was never a guarantee, that matched couples will be incorruptible and durable. After all, it was the work of numbers inside the Panem's database linking a man to his match. Numbers could be wrong… But they hadn't been inaccurate in their case. Finnick truly loved Peeta, and until recently he believed Peeta loved him back.

Old Mags had tried to stay with him, but he'd been a recalcitrant child and snapped at her to leave him the fuck alone. Nothing could sooth his insecurities and jealousy, only one person. And what was that person doing at the moment? He was in the attic, painting a baby's portrait, or so he says. Finnick feared what he would find if he stormed into that room. His gut told him there was more than one drawing of kitty Kat, and those were not going to be so innocent.

For the first time in his life, Finnick envied another person. It was completely ridiculous and irrational. Finnick Odair was one of the most coveted men in the Capitol. Almost four years ago, he'd been offered so much by men wanting to own him. He had flirted and given in on occasion, but never had he accepted the offers. It was foolish if he had wanted to be in control of his future. In this manner, he would choose his partner not depending on a computer read-out. But no one had his heart, it was all lust and greed intertwined. As the Reaping date approached, he welcomed it willing it to be his turn and accepting his fate. And Peeta Mellark was his and never had he regretted waiting for him.

Another sip, and he threw the tumbler against the wall shattering into pieces, leaving behind a stain on the cream-colored wall. Impotency had taken hold over him, while the rage bubbled inside. He wanted to take it out… on someone. Finnick looked to the garden, seeing them standing there talking. He strode toward the open space. It had been there since before he'd been born. His father had barely stood in it. It had been his partner's doing.

Finnick remembered running around, hiding from Mags. Seneca Crane had never shown him love, and that day he had told him why. He'd been not older than five, always getting into mischief spoiled by Mags. In his zealousness to outrun Mags, he'd tripped and broken a statue. The statue had fallen and ruined some delicate flowers. Crane had found him, while Mags cowered by his side.

_"You little shit! Look what you've done! You're disgusting and you've ruined my life. He doesn't love me anymore… all he cares about is you! If I could I would get rid of you forever! Get him out of my sight, you good for nothing bitch! And you better clean this up and keep him out of my garden."_

Finnick felt five years old again, afraid of his other father, the one who despised him, saw him as an intruder. Yet he never understood why Seneca Crane believed Tristan Odair loved his son more. He was mostly away, on business, as his position in the government demanded it. It afforded them so many luxuries, and the high regard of Capitol society. Once again, Finnick felt like an intruder between his Peeta_ and their Kat._

Letting his rage take over, Finnick decimated with his bare hands everything in sight. He teared down the flowers and looked for anything that would help him destroy any trace of life. The fountain was left askew, the water flowing and flooding the garden. The tree was left standing, for he could not rip it from the root.

"Where are you now Crane? Come and beat me now, bitch!"

He dropped on the bench, gripping his head. This wasn't him, no one should be able to defeat him. Then why did he feel like he had lost him? The guilt was all on him, though. He'd been the one to force Peeta into being the sire of their first son, and Peeta hadn't wanted to. Why didn't he listen? If he'd been the one with Katniss things would've stayed the same… he could fix this. If she wasn't pregnant for a second time, he could send her back to the Hob. He could write-up some excuse for a special license, that would free them from upholding the Law. This way he would have Peeta with no distractions.

"Who's this Crane whose got you so riled up?"

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Peeta had heard something break, but had stayed inside the attic. At least, he'd made progress on Darius Heavensbee-Undersee's portrait. Now his attention had been thwarted by his compulsion to draw Katniss. With better materials, Peeta was depicting her likeness as never before. In this one, she was bare and welcoming his inside her body. He'd included himself in a blurred shadow overtaking her, searching and giving pleasure. In school, he'd been taught about myths and demons, about monsters and witches. Here, he was an incubus preying on a woman to mate with. It was sinister, making him feel wretched. Peeta tore it apart.

He thought it was better to rest, and continue refreshed in the morning. As he was tidying things up, he heard noises from the garden. Through the opened window, Peeta saw Finnick in a rampage destroy the garden. He'd never seen him in such a state. He'd been hot and cold for some days, wanting to dominate and claim him one day, and the next, he'd be distant, erecting a wall around him. Peeta wondered if something had gone wrong with his work, but he was unaware of the real motives behind the violent episode.

When he arrived at the door, Finnick was looking at the damage he'd inflicted. His hands and arms were covered in scratches and blood was dripping from deeper wounds. Abruptly, he hollered at no one and dropped to the still standing bench. His body caved in itself, in defeat and frustration. Peeta felt compelled to ease his pain, find how he could help him. He asked who had disturbed him so, and silence was the answer.

Finnick tensed and stared at the flooded ground. Peeta walked closer with caution, with his hands at his sides.

"Seneca Crane was my other father. This garden was his, for his use only. He hated my existence in his life. When I was five years old, I was caught playing here. I tripped and a statue fell, breaking in pieces. It also ruined a flower bed containing his favorite flower. Mags couldn't protect me, he would've beaten her to death if she had. He sneered and shook me, screaming on my face. I had taken my father's love from him. A grown man was jealous of a child. I never understood, since my father really wasn't around much. From that day on, I stayed away from this place and from him. I didn't believe him, Peeta. For once they went their separate ways, my father never looked for another. To me, my father's love had been Seneca Crane. I don't want to be Seneca Crane."

Peeta was speechless, not knowing how to respond appropriately. It was clear, Finnick needed him tonight as his friend, but also as his lover. Finnick was quicker and fell to his knees in front of him, nuzzling his face on his midriff. "I don't want to be Seneca Crane," Finnick kept whispering over and over. Peeta was stunned and froze in place, with only his hands moving to stroke his hair. "You're not this man. You will love our child, and we'll love it back. Our son will know he's loved, that his fathers adore him. Not all men should be fathers… but the Law makes them be."

Finnick shook his head and looked up. His eyes met Peeta's, it was then Peeta saw the tears on his cheeks. "Is it the Law that binds you to me? Not love… Are you going to leave me, Peeta?" Peeta struggled for words again, feeling Finnick's stare on him, waiting for a reply. Truthfully, it had never crossed his mind to break his union to Finnick. His feelings towards him hadn't changed. "I swore to you my loyalty and my love. I don't intend to break my word. It is not the Law that binds us together. Soon we'll be fathers to our son, just like you've been wanted; a boy that looks like me. What's gotten into you? You don't usually drink this much, to the point of intoxication. Has something happened at work?"

Peeta had left out Katniss; it was too soon to approach his intentions of keeping her with them. In Finnick's current state things could me misconstrued, resulting in more unrest between them. It was impossible this had been caused by his infatuation with her, for there was no way Finnick had any knowledge.

Finnick composed his face, hiding his pain at the omitted lie in Peeta's words. He was still denying the fact he wanted the woman brought into their home. It had to be corrected. He knew the consequences of letting this unattended. It wasn't the first time some inexperienced boy decided to play with the opposite sex. Finnick had played with temptation long ago, when his father was still alive. She had been beautiful, more that kitty Kat. She was forbidden fruit, belonging to a friend of his father's. Her name was Annie. She was miserable and he was curious. Raging hormones between unsupervised teenagers let to various sexual encounters. Finnick had been cavalier, thinking no one would find them out. It had been his father, coming early one afternoon. They'd been in his room, fucking on his bed. Just one word from his father, and Annie disappeared. Once again the Law prevailed.

Blood had smeared on Peeta's clothes, but by now the blood had stopped and had dried on Finnick's skin. Finnick took hold of Peeta's hips, "I'm yours… I love you, Peet. Never forget." He proceeded to open his pants, pushing them down letting them fall to the wet ground. His knees were staring to hurt, but the pain centered him. He knew what he wanted, and he was going to get it. He found Peeta had no underwear, which delighted him. "Are you trying to seduce me? 'Cause let me tell you, it's working…" Taking his penis in his fist, he stroke it slowly, feeling the softness. It belonged to him, he would remind Peeta and himself, of their vows and what they mean. Inclining his head forward, Finnick opened his mouth kissing the head first, then taking it in. Peeta was powerless as his body responded to Finnick's tongue. Finnick wanted more, so he sucked and hummed causing Peeta to wobble and lose his footing with weakened knees.

"Oh fuck… baby. Ah… let's go to our room-"

With a popping noise, Finnick moved back, "No, I want you here, now. Are you denying me?" Peeta shook his head, and stopped his protests. With scant lighting, Finnick could still see his saliva coating Peeta's cock, marking it as his. Taking it back into his mouth, he closed his eyes and simply let himself savor the act. Forcing his muscles to comply, he pushed forward taking even more of his length, feeling the head graze his throat. Peeta was in agony, holding himself by a thread, feeling the heat growing and the pulse in his balls. "I-I'm gonna come… fuck…" Finnick opened his eyes in glee, seeing his Peeta so out of control, and all because of him. With his hands that had held his hips, he decided to push him over the edge even further. One hand moved in direction of his balls, while the other he used the saliva drooling from his mouth as lubricant. One finger sufficiently covered teased his anus, making Peeta thrust harder. Finnick stopped again, letting his wet cock slap his face, but his hands stayed in place. Peeta was breathless and whimpering at the loss.

"Are you about to come? Be a good boy, and come."

Finnick tugged on his balls and pushed his finger inside. Peeta grunted, rocking his pelvis blindly searching for release. As he watched Peeta's body strain, muscles corded, mouth opened, Finnick desisted from his torture and took his cock swallowing just in time. Peeta had to use his shoulders as support, while his penis jerked and spurted uncontrollably. Finnick licked him clean, finally letting him rest. He kissed the head and sat back, now noticing how his wet knees were protesting and aching. Peeta sat on the bench completely spent, with his pants still at his ankles. He started to laugh.

"Damn… you getting drunk makes you more romantic and an animal giving head. Fuck, I can't even walk."

Finnick was having problems standing up, as his legs had grown numb. With a bit of difficulty, he sat beside Peeta on the bench, using his hands as support. For a few seconds, the only sound was their joint heavy breathing, inside their heads the slowing beating of their hearts.

"I certainly wouldn't mind having walk naked all the time… we would never leave the house, kind of like in the beginning. We were insatiable back then, one look and I'd have you bend over the closest furniture. Can we be like that again?"

Peeta grinned, looking around at the damaged fountain still dripping water. "I guess it will have to be now, before the baby comes. After that, our lives will change." Finnick's hand touched his chin, moving his gaze towards him, "Do you want to be a father, Peeta?" Peeta stared back and nodded, "At first, I was hesitant. I hadn't thought of it, but now after holding Darius in my arms… knowing that life is an extension of me… that needs us." It hadn't escaped Finnick when Peeta said "an extension of me," not us, the rest an afterthought; it hurt deeply. His lips descended on Peeta's, quickly entering his mouth letting his tongue tangle with his, letting him taste himself. Faces drawn together, they stopped at the same time, eye to eye, Finnick whispered, "We shall have our son. He will be loved, for he will have his two fathers who'll love him like no other." Mentally he added, and _she shall be gone_.

Unbeknownst to them, their encounter was privy to a pair of gray eyes. Katniss stayed hidden and watched as Peeta and Finnick came together in the midst of the chaos surrounding them. Finnick's words, his statement that he felt like an intruder were farther from the truth. She was the unintended interloper.


	8. Part VIII

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

It was looming over her, time was almost up for her sentence to be determined. Yet it wasn't the only thing on her mind these days. Katniss felt remorseful for observing a her master's private moment. It wasn't right, and the nagging feeling wouldn't light up. Mags kept pestering her to simply tell what was bothering her, for she knew there was something she was hiding. The poor old woman thought she had bled early and was wondering what her fate would be if the masters found out. No, there hadn't been any blood, and there might not be for many months.

Katniss stared out her window, gazing at what remained of her sanctuary. No efforts had been made to fix it, only the bench remained unscathed. For some reason, she believed Finnick had destroyed it to spite her, to take something else from her. It was absurd to think she could be the cause, for she was no threat to their relationship. And yet, overtime she came into their bedroom, Finnick was there stating his claim, with a stare, a kiss, a panting whisper. Peeta was his, and no one would take him from his grasp. She could clearly remember the way he'd taken Peeta's cock in front of her. It was a declaration of war. For Katniss knew the difference now, it was so very different when they were together alone. Still possessive and demanding, but his eyes showed his love and devotion.

The very next day she stayed inside her room avoiding meeting any of them. She feared her blushing skin would give her away, telling of what she had seen and what she was thinking in front of their faces. It was a bit disconcerting that it re-played in her mind, the sounds they'd made and how Peeta looked as he climaxed. They were lovers… they were friends. It was difficult to see them as monsters, but still she was their prisoners, another piece of property they could discard when they grew tired of it. Staying inside her room had simply made her brood over a plan to escape. For Katniss couldn't deny she was afraid. She had seen Finnick's rage and its effects. What if she had been seen? What would he had done then? Would have Peeta intervened in her behalf?

Then cycle would begin again, to worrying about the pregnancy. If she indeed was with child, the next step would be to screen for the sex and if it was a girl… Katniss dreaded that more than anything, for she knew it would be the push towards attempting a getaway. If it was a boy… she would have to wait it out for months, then leave her son and sacrifice her life knowing she would never see him again. For she knew it was doubtful this home would welcome after the delivery. The mothers had only one purpose and once it was accomplished, they were sent to another couple. It was the way of women, to be trapped in cycles, the cycle of their bodies, and the cycle of breeding vessel that reign over their lives. Once more, Katniss found herself wishing she'd been barren. It had to be a better fate working in some field, than an body passed around birthing babies.

Prim came to her thoughts, and Katniss prayed she hadn't survived. It was enough she was living this hell, but not her little sister. She was meant for better things, not to be tarnished by the cruelties of a tyrant society. The Republic must die, Katniss murmured to the air, wishing the words would spark a fire nothing could withstand it, obliterating everything in its way. Her eyes had stop seeing, glazed over as her thoughts ran through her. Then emptiness enveloped Katniss. She was hollow and believed she would always feel this way. As if time had ceased to progress, a silence surrounded her. She closed her eyes, letting this moment calm her agitated soul.

A knock on her door alerted the presence of another person in the room. It was one of her master, Peeta was standing leaning against the threshold. His blue eyes gazed upon her in scrutiny for a few seconds. Katniss decided she was up for the challenged and stared back without blinking.

"I think I need a second opinion… and since Mags isn't much of a choice, you will do. I need for completely honesty, as Finn and Mags they'll love anything I do and this is kind of important. Would you do me this favor, Katniss?"

As much as she tried, Katniss had to blink, intermittently, as his words sunk in. He wanted a favor… what kind of favor? She was confused. Peeta saw it on her face, and gave her an encouraging smile willing her to speak freely, to say anything.

"What's the favor, ma-Peeta?"

His response was a bigger smile, with dimples showing and white teeth. Peeta felt like he had gained a point in his quest, as Katniss had corrected herself and called him by his name. Now, the next part was getting her to go with him to the attic. He sighed and took two steps forward.

"It's a simple task. All I need from you is your opinion on my latest piece, it's for an important client. It's a portrait of his youngest son, Darius, a lovely baby boy, not yet a year old. I've been working on it practically nonstop for days and I really want to be done with it. I would like to know your opinion… if it pleases you to come out this room and breathe new air."

Peeta grinned at the end and winked for good measure. The reaction was immediate on Katniss, as her face reddened against her will. She couldn't deny Peeta Mellark was charming and handsome… It wasn't difficult to imagine why Finnick Odair had been so lucky to matched to this young man. They were perfect for each other. But still they needed her here and her body. With her eyes averted hiding behind her hair, "Fine. I will give you my honest opinion, but I'm warning you, I might be too honest." She even used her finger, pointing in a threatening manner. Peeta chuckled, "Give it your best try, I can take it." He wasn't backing down, and he enjoyed seeing some life return in Katniss' face. It assured him that his decision to bring her out of her self-proclaimed exile was the right one.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

"He's a bit heavy, isn't he? I do like his chubby rosy cheeks… I'm almost tempted to touch them. You've made it look so real."

Peeta was standing, resting his body against a long desk on the side of the room. The window was covered by a curtain, but still allowing natural light to stream inside. Katniss was as close as she could get in front of the painting, meticulously inspecting every aspect. She was looking for anything that she could critique, but there was nothing wrong. She felt cheated and frustrated.

"Hey! Don't huff at the painting, it hasn't done anything to you… So, what's the final verdict?"

She swiveled in his direction, forehead creased, "It's perfect. It is truly beautiful… as if the child lives in the painting. How did you do that?" Peeta walked and stood in front of his creation, avoiding Katniss' stare.

"It's a mystery to me… a gift given to me by some higher power. I don't know."

Katniss slapped his arm, and shaking her head in disbelief. "Stop your posturing, you are looking for more compliments and feed your enormous ego. You must have had the best teachers since an early age and now you have surpassed them all. Your next piece should be something completely unexpected. I know why don't you paint me!"

After she blurted out, her eyes bugged out and her hands covered her mouth. It was a completely presumptuous thing to say, a condemnable offense by the Law. Immediately, she tried to apologize, "I'm sorry master, please forgive my untoward behavior. I'll leave you now." Acting contrite and submissive was against her nature, but Katniss had been taught in the Hob and this was what was expected of her. She dropped to her knees, her head down waiting for punishment. A hand brushed over her head, causing her to flinch, but nothing else happened. "Nothing would please me more… But it would be an act of treason," Peeta muttered. Katniss was able to decipher the words, that weren't meant to be heard.

"I have another piece, and this one is for President Snow. I've been sort of evading it. I can't any longer or my reputation will suffer and our lives could be affected as well. Finnick needs me to do well." His hand touched her chin, forcing her face upwards. Still, she kept her eyes downcast. "Katniss… I'm not your master. I would like to be your friend. I won't hurt you and if its within my power I would keep you here with us. I don't want to see you return to that ghastly place. You would have Mags and you would be able to see your children. Wouldn't that be wonderful?"

Her eyes met his gaze, gray steel burning, "Wonderful? Is this a game to you? You are not my master? Does that mean I'm free to leave this place, return to my life? Will be you return my family? Wake up! Look around you, where do I fit in your life? I'm your slave, never your friend or equal. My purpose is clearly defined and once it is done, I'll be gone. You will get your precious baby boy, one you can paint until your hands bleed and grow numb for all I care. Now, if it doesn't displease you _master_, I'll be returning to my cell."

She stood by her own steam, and walked out of that room. A room that smell of him, that was all his. She felt disgusted with herself and her attraction to this man. Another segment to add to her mental cycle, her conflicting emotions towards her master. Even now, Katniss had to admit her words were her weak attempt at revenge. But Peeta Mellark didn't kill her parents or was he to blame for her situation. The Republic was the real culprit with its Law, all-encompassing and unyielding.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Finnick arrived home, as usual he went in search of his Peeta. He wasn't at the dinner table, only Mags was there cleaning the surface fastidiously. He asked Mags where Peeta was and she shrugged and uttered that he'd stayed in the attic all the day. Finnick decided to clean himself up before venturing into Peeta's realm. It probably meant he wanted to finish quickly the Heavensbee's portrait. Thinking the name, made Finnick breakout in goosebumps. There was no point reminiscing about the past. It was to be left alone and forgotten.

Refreshed after his shower, Finnick now stood in front of the door. Turning the handle, he pushed forward finding there was no light. "Peeta? Why is there no light in here…" Finnick turned the lights on, finding Peeta was sitting in a corner. The portrait was in his lap.

"Is this worth everything, Finn?"

"What do you mean, Peet? What's got you all depressed? So you finished it, I'm sure your clients will be pleased. Darius is a beautiful boy."

Peeta kept staring at the painting, "Is having a child worth it? I was convincing myself it was… but now I'm not so sure. H-how many lives have to be ruined, in order for us to have our son? I-I offered her what I thought was w-what she would want… she threw it back in face. A slave. A prisoner. S-she called me master. And for some reason it hurt, as if she was wielding a knife into my chest. Fuck, Finn, I think I'm losing my mind."

Finnick took the painting from his grasp, setting it on the easel. He was stalling, for he knew the time had come to say the right words. "Are you drunk? Trying to up my recent display of drunk and disorderly… Look, Peet I don't know. Let's think the Law didn't state we had to procreate. Would you want a son? I would say yes. Having another piece of you around is worth anything. As for our Kat, you need to keep the boundaries. She did it for you, for she knows her place. You've forgotten yours. Face the fact, we are her masters, for she belongs to us for the time being. In merely days, we'll know and if it doesn't happen, she will go back to the Hob. That's real. Making her into your friend, it's not real. Now, get off your ass and let's go eat and ruin the dinner table for Mags to go crazy over after we eat."

Peeta took the proffered hand and stood, his face inches from Finn's. Green eyes met his blue ones, lips found each other brushing at first and then aggressively staking claim. Sucking and nibbling, Finn was the first one to pull back. His hot breath teased Peeta's neck, as he sighed, "This is real. You and me." With his hand still within Finnick's hold, Peeta let himself be taken without resistance. His exterior appearance was composed and accepting, while inside all he could think was not real, she was not real.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

A doctor had come and gone, assuring Finnick and Peeta, that in eight months they would be fathers. The test had been positive, no more visits to their room, no more three nights in their bed. Katniss was in daze, sitting alone in her room. Her food was left untouched, even after Mags had pestered her about eating for two now. One uncertainty was over, but another was imminent and more terrifying.

The doctor had said with another test at the seventh week, the sex could be determined. In hushed tones, the man had given Finnick and Peeta the option of aborting the child if it was a girl and try again. Finnick nodded, while Peeta had turned white as sheet, looking faint. "It is completely confidential. It is not under the purview of the Law… but our profession has made leeway for this type of situations. Congratulations! I'll be here in a few weeks to check on the progress. If anything should change, call me immediately. Have a good day, Mr. Odair, Mr. Mellark."

Katniss had stayed quiet throughout the examination, nodding and shaking her head in reply to the doctor's questions. As she'd been about to leave the room, Finnick's words stopped her, "Mags will be in charge of you. Do not attempt anything, for I will not be forgiving. Your priority is giving us a healthy boy. I don't need to remind you of that, do I? You're excused."

And here she was, the breeding vessel was no longer hollow, but with what she wondered.


	9. Part IX

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Five more weeks, until they would know the sex of the child growing inside her. Katniss had nothing but wait, and hope it was a boy. It was clear that it if wasn't things would turn dire for her, with no escape from being returned to the Hob. She tried not to think of the other option, the one the doctor susurrated. It was forbidden by the Law, but it seemed there were instances transgression were allowed among the privileged. The Odairs were well-known and respected by the looks of the house and luxuries. Finnick even had a woman in his house, who Katniss suspected was closer to him than he knew. His work was to apply his influence and his name for the greater good of the Republic of Panem. True to his word, her only company had been Mags and her constant nagging and worrying. Katniss simply had not appetite and whatever she managed to ingest, it be expelled later. So sickness and fear were her best friends, confined to her cage. From her lone window, she would look down at the garden, in complete disarray, not even the birds would visit it now.

Time was her enemy. Before she wanted it to go fast, to find out if she was pregnant, now she wanted it to stop from passing. Once the date arrived, there was no turning back, no second chances. Katniss was under no illusion that she would be welcomed back. Finnick had made his views on her transparent. If he could, he would've taken her away. Why he felt threatened by her? A woman with no powers or rights, no influences or connections. She was a means to an end. And this end was the countdown to her existence.

As for Peeta, he didn't search for her or come to her door. It was as if she'd been deleted from his presence. All she knew was through Mags, who told her he was too busy now with the President's commission. Katniss wondered if the baby's painting had been a success. Maybe Peeta had to redo it and that was why he stayed away. This very night she could hear the loud music coming from the attic. It had no words, only instruments. With each creaking noise from upstairs, it filled her with anticipation, that perhaps he would need her opinion once more.

With nothing to entertain her, Katniss sat at the windowsill imagining snapshots of her earlier life. She could hear the sounds of the forest, the creaking and swooshing of the leaves and branches. She could almost taste the rain on her tongue, and hear her sister's giggles as she tickled her. She could smell her father's masculine scent after a long day. And see her mother's ash-blonde hair fluttering in the wind. She will never see them again, and she envied their deaths, for they turmoil was over, while hers had only just begun.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Cinna was back in his office, giving him a devious smirk. "So… tell me how's it going with the waiting? I would be sweating bullets and biting anyone's head off… wait you're already doing that! How's your Peeta? Is he finally catching up with the father feelings? Last time we talked, you said he was a bit hesitant about the whole thing and you were concerned. As for me, I can't wait to see that baby. Next, you have to be the father… can you imagine your son? It is obvious why your father was jealous of you. I mean Finn, you baby are the most handsome man in the Republic. When you were matched, a lot of men went through a depression and some. Heavensbee had to be taken to the hospital with heart palpitations… You almost gave that man a heart attack, Finn boy."

Finnick sneered at Cinna's jocularity, which clearly clashed with his current state of mind. "Don't mention that man's name in presence again, or I won't be held responsible, much less by your partner for breaking your fucking nose, Cinnie. Peeta is currently under a lot of pressure with the President's commissioned piece. He doesn't even talk with me much lately. He's cooped up in the attic at all hours of the day. He even woke me up with his instrumental music at midnight. Supposedly, it helps him create… I want him back, in our bed. I miss him… as for the baby, he's changed his views about our impending fatherhood. It's his child after all."

Cinna sat in an empty chair and frowned at Finnick, "You mean "our child"? It sounds to me there's more underneath the carpet, Finn." Finnick pushed and tossed papers from his desk, avoiding Cinna's right-on-the-spot statement. "I-I'm sure everything will fine, once we know the sex of the baby and then when it's born. Yes, I'm looking forward to holding a living piece of the love of my life. I can picture our son in my mind with Peeta's blue eyes, nose and lips. And then _she_ will be gone."

"_She_? Not gonna keep the breeding vessel for your baby? What's wrong, Finn?" Cinna wasn't going to give his inquisition easily, and Finnick felt like idiot for falling into his trap. "You've got me. Since you're my closest friend, apart from Peeta, I will confide in you. From the beginning I asked Peeta to be the one. I wanted our first son to be sired by him. He protested wanting me to be the father, that he hadn't really pictured children in our future. I cited the Law requiring it from us. We selected, well I saw him look at her, and I knew it had to be her. She was striking, with her defiant stance in that auction room. I should've known… Peeta has been sheltered from some crude realities. I think the only woman he's been exposed to his whole life has been Mags. I didn't foresee the consequences of introducing a woman into our lives."

Cinna sighed, "I've never seen you this vulnerable before, not even… Finn I'm sure it's just a crush, nothing serious. Maybe let the boy fuck it out of his system. The novelty will wear off and he'll be wondering why all the fuss. But, I definitely understand your reasoning about returning her to the Hob after the birth. It won't do if he gets too attached. It is frowned upon and against the Law. How your father managed to keep Mags boggles my mind… but do have to say she's wonderful to have around. You high mighty people with your connections and get away with anything."

"I mean, I think the only citizen that has women in his home, is the President. Sure, they are bound and gagged, but still they are females. If they work the fields and bear the children, might as well clean and cook inside our homes. You should totally start lobbying for that amendment with the added public punishment of castration to those who are caught with their pants down. Let's be real and remember a cock with fuck any available hole at its disposal, therefore a clause has to be included that will dispel such temptation. Try to smile, and stop furrowing your forehead you'll get wrinkles. Nasty things. If I see another line, I'll have to consider visiting Dr. Aurelius and his shop of horrors. Did you see how he cleaned up Snow's face? Yeah… I better leave you to your thoughts. Kiss Peeta for me… and pinch that delectable ass of his too."

By the time the door closed after Cinna, Finnick was lost in his sorting through government projects and articles, organizing them according to priority. But it was futile to pretend to work, when his concentration was spent in going over Cinna's words. Could he allow Peeta to fuck Katniss without a purpose, only that of pursuing pleasure? Was it just a phase, caused by Peeta's inexperience? His heart only wanted to protect what was his, for he feared if he lost Peeta's love, it would mean their doom. It was death to the transgressor… and without Peeta, Finnick would not live.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Peeta was standing in one of the living rooms of the Presidential Palace. He'd been called to one of the many meetings planned for the President's painting. He was perspiring profusely, even his hands were damp. He tried to wiped them off on his pants. In this way, he was startled by the voice of the President's assistant.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Mellark. I'm so glad you could join us today. I'm sorry to say the President is occupied with other matters at the moment, but sent me instead. Would you like a beverage or something to eat, perhaps?"

The balding man, with a slight twitch on his left eye, stared at him from top to bottom, making Peeta feel uncomfortable. His clothes wore the President's seal in a golden thread, complementing the red cotton of his shirt. Gold, red and black were the colors of the Republic. Peeta made of note that, for his painting, as he observed it was the motif in the decoration.

"No, thank you, mister eh?"

The man gave him another once over, "Assistant Cray, at your service. Shall we go ahead with a guided tour? Before we do, there is a confidentiality clause. Whatever you see or hear inside the President's home is never to be spoken outside it, understood?" Peeta nodded, but Cray's glare made it him assent verbally, "Understood." Turning around, the man opened the double doors to the next room, it was a grand room, crowded with seating arrangements throughout. Four sets of chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, and a small fountain was the focal point in the center of the room.

"This room, as you can see is used at gatherings and special parties held at the palace. It can also be cleared and used as an extra ballroom. The President's son likes to play hide and seek in here. Now, through this doors you'll be able to see the large backyard. It is here that the fireworks on every anniversary of the signing of the Law is commemorated. To this other side you'll see the official ballroom, where the President's union ceremony was held. You may look at the current artwork displayed. The President only wants the best. These pieces are antiques, as you can see remnants of a long forgotten past. Your work will not likely be displayed here, though. Let's continue to the kitchens-"

A boy with medium brown hair pushed through the door leading to the outside. He was breathless and flushed, looking like he was running from something or someone. "Alistair! What are you doing? You should be with your tutor, not running around like a rabid dog! You know your father won't tolerate disobedience. I won't cover for you any longer, young Snow." The boy grinned at Cray, as he did not care or heed the warning. Then he noticed the presence of a stranger. "Hey mister, do you like to play hide and seek? Can you run really fast? Mr. Abernathy must be still asleep under the tree. He likes to take sips from a flask, when he thinks no one is looking. But his breath smells really bad. So, do you want to play, mister?" Once again, he showed his teeth smiling big at Peeta. Peeta smiled back, but before he could respond, Cray exploded. "You mind your manners. This is Peeta Mellark, one of the Republic's most famous artist. He is here to paint a portrait for your father. Would you excuse, Mr. Mellark? I'll be back soon, I just need to take this troublemaker back to his tutor."

Using the boy's earlobe, Cray pushed him outside, leaving Peeta alone to peruse the old paintings in solitude. What he found astonished him. The scenes depicted were completely forbidden by the Law. Many were of naked women in different poses. Others contained women and men kissing, while others showed men and women in various states of sexual euphoria. Some were extremely damaged by the passage of time, yellowed out and full of scratches and holes. But there was one painting in particular that caused Peeta to freeze in place. This piece was of a woman being held back by two men, while another pushed inside her. Her face showed her distress and pain, tears pouring down her swollen face. The more he stared, the face changed into Katniss, and the man's face was his own. He remembered his own drawing, seeing himself as a demon. His body reacted, and he felt sick, covering his mouth. He needed to find a washroom and fast. Walking and opening doors at random wasn't taking closer to one and he feared he would simply had to expel the contents of his stomach right on the President's floor.

When Peeta was about to simply go outside, someone appeared. It was a woman, hunched over dressed in a red uniform. Her breasts were exposed, as her genitals. She walked until she was only a few feet in front of him. Her hair had been shorn and her mouth… it had been sown shut. She was an Avox. Peeta's stomach churned and he ran from the room in the direction of the backyard. Bent over puking his guts out in the bushes, was where the President found him.

"I've never seen anyone have such a reaction to that painting. I'm gonna believe you were already harboring a stomach bug, Mr. Mellark. The men of the Republic are strong and resilient, and won't fall to pieces like the weak and immoral women you've seen in those images. Don't you worry, Cray will receive his corresponding chastisement for neglecting his duties. I will continue the tour if you don't mind. I would very much like for you to see my rose garden, and we will discuss the subject of the piece I've commissioned you."

In silence, Peeta followed obediently. His stomach ached, and his mouth tasted of vile. His hands were trembling, but he was sure it was anxiety from being so close to the man with the power to sent him to his death, with no qualms. The cloying smell of roses alerted him that they had arrived. The garden contained every variety of the flower, but Snow kept walking until only white roses surrounded them.

"Aren't they the most precious flower? You know what I like about it? It looks pure and innocent, but if you aren't careful, its thorns will sting you, bleed you dry. Now, Mr. Mellark, let's discuss business. I've heard great things from you. Your reputation precedes you, and you've been recommended by esteemed citizens. Even Heavensbee wants a painting done by you."

"As for the subject of my piece… it is of a nature no one expect you can know about. It will be exhibited in a private chamber. I'm sure Cray spoke of the confidentiality clause… I will reassert in this matter. It will do you no good if you don't uphold this agreement and it will be detrimental to your partner, Mr. Finnick Odair's career. So, Mr. Mellark, do you abide to this, swear to protect this painting from foreign eyes?"

Peeta tried to keep eye contact, and his rising nausea at bay. Snow's eyes were dark pools, stared intense and set to infiltrate his soul. When he was about to give his answer, Peeta was interrupted by two guards dragging a frail looking man. His torso was bare, covered in welts. His hands were bound and were his ankles. His dark hair was matted and covered in dried blood. His only piece of clothing was a pair of tattered pants.

"Kneel," Snow commanded. The man remained in position, with his head downcast. Snow grunted his displeasure and gestured with his hands. The guards pushed the man to his knees. The man whimpered in pain. "Look at me." The man didn't need the guards this time. Gray eyes… so much like Katniss' eyes, stared cold and empty. The man's mouth had been sown shut recently, but it seemed it had been sown up before from the healed marks and scars on his face. "This one has been a hard one to break. A deserter of the Republic, found in the wilderness, living like animals. He's my personal project, and your subject. I want you to paint my Avox. I want something to remember him by, after his death. Now, Mr. Mellark, what say you?"

Peeta arranged his face, hiding his intensifying horror.

"Yes, Mr. President, I will abide to our agreement."

"Good. I will leave you, with my pet. Sketch away, Mr. Mellark."

The President left them in the garden, the two guards still in place, and the man kneeling at Peeta's feet. Fuck my life, Peeta mentally cursed.


	10. Part X

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Finnick kept tossing and turning, without finding himself any closer to falling completely asleep. Peeta hadn't come down, and it was past midnight. He'd barely eaten a morsel, and had escaped to the attic. Having at enough, Finnick went in search of his Peeta, fuck the commissioned paintings. The door was closed but no sound could be heard. Finnick knocked on the door, and received no reply. Deciding to simply enter, he opened the door and found a darkened room, with no Peeta inside. Where is he? Locking the door behind me, he thought of another place Peeta would be hiding in. No lights illuminated over the destroyed indoor garden, but Finnick knew Peeta was there. Remembering where the bench was situated, he walked in the near-blind darkness towards its location.

"Go back to bed, Finn. I'll be there soon."

Finnick sat beside him and searched for the closest hand to grasp, once he found it he squeezed it. "Do you want me to fix the garden? I guess I should, if not is a wasted space… we could transform it for another use-"

"Katniss loved it here. I think she spent all her time in this space, talking to her sister-"

Finnick flinched at the mention of Katniss, and he reacted back without censure.

"Do you want to fuck her? Is that what keeps you up nights? You want to fuck her until you don't want anymore? Maybe you've done it already-"

Peeta closed his eyes, even if it would not help him find peace. Dropping Finnick's hand, he clenched both hands on his forehead.

"It hurts me, that you would think of me capable of betraying you. No, I'm not here wasting the night 'cause I want to fuck her. I have question of my own, did you destroy it only because it reminds you of your other father?"

Finnick huffed, not liking Peeta's inquisition into the past. Peeta found his hand, squeezing back.

"I had a moment of weakness, alcohol induced-rage fit and this place suffered for it. I needed to vent, I think it was a better choice. I won't deny it was providence I didn't see Katniss on my way here… perish the thought. As for Seneca Crane being my other father, that bastard may rot in the deepest pits of hell before I call him that. There are things from my past… things I've hidden from you, and from myself. You only know very superficially that I used my physical attributes to get ahead. But there are more sinister things lurking in the shadows… Life in the high society of the Capitol implies many skeletons that are buried deep. I don't want to dig them up again, Peeta. Why are you here in the darkness? Why haven't you come to bed? How did it go with Snow?"

Finnick stopped his barrage of questions, as he was breathless and frustrated with Peeta's removed state.

"Have you ever been inside the Presidential Palace?"

"Yes, with my father. I was very young, but I remember the opulence and the men moving into rooms. My father didn't take me again. Personally, I haven't received an invitation."

Peeta touched Finnick's face, "Have you ever seen an Avox?"

"Once, that night. A woman. She was dressed in red. And her mouth-"

Peeta answered the rest, "Was sown shut. I saw one today, but her breasts and genitals were exposed. You told me, Snow had a new toy. I saw him, too. He must be our age, with dark hair and gray eyes so reminiscent of Katniss… tall and must have been strong once, now he's emaciated and beaten. His eyes… a blank stare and darkness. I wondered if he was still inside his body. Shit, Finn I'm not even supposed to be talking about this… every time I think of what I saw, my stomach turns. I fucking puked my guts out in the President's bushes. How am I going to survive making this piece for him? I gave him my word, and I'm bound to it, and so are you. Snow stood there waiting for my oath, biding me to it. He owns our lives, Finn. All for a fucking painting of a condemned man. Snow wants to remember even after his execution. I would give anything to simply forget every aspect of what I witness inside that prison. Even his son wants to escape it. I-I want it to be over, Finn."

Finnick embraced Peeta, kissing his eyes and mouth aimlessly. Inside his mind, he wanted to protect him and erase all the malice and despair Peeta had experienced. Impotency wasn't something he endured amicably. Snow and his horror shows were just one of the best kept secrets in the Capitol. The Law was unseeing of certain transgression, the ones down behind closed doors, with very few seeing the light and exposed to be tried and punished.

Like it was yesterday, his mind played back the day his father attested to the crime committed by Seneca Crane. His other father had no love for him, it had been blatant all throughout his life. He even had verbalized his jealousy and disdain inside his beloved garden. But indifference and verbal abuse wasn't enough for Seneca Crane. When Finnick was twelve, he was betrayed by the one sworn by Law, to protect, nurture and love him, as father should. His innocence and body defiled for the enjoyment of a demented, jealous partner. Luckily, Finnick's father found them, he witness how he's son had tried to scream and defend himself. His father tore Seneca from him and proceeded to beat him to death. He stopped himself, but the damage was extensive to the face and torso. He was practically unrecognizable. It was Mags who'd come to Finnick, holding softly and sobbing for her boy. Also, it was the first time he saw her act violently against her father, demanding he do something, kill if he had to. He expected his father to explode and hit her, but strangely he simply stared at her and then embraced her. Her tears sodden his shirt, and her hands touched his face beseechingly.

How did this garden still exist? Finnick thought. In retrospect, his father should have burned it down back then.

Tristan Odair stood in front of everyone, declaring the annulment of his union to Seneca Crane, stating the valid reason, and demanding the corresponding punishment, death. But his father wanted a public execution, serving as warning to all those who thought this type of crime would remain immune to the authority of the Law. Seneca Crane was found guilty of the most vile offense under the Law, a father sexually abusing his child. His death had not been enough. Finnick never got his father back.

They walked back to their room, Finnick helping Peeta with his clothes, and Peeta reciprocating. Side by side, facing each other, in the bed, Finnick held Peeta closer.

"I wish I could delete this day from your mind… protect you from it tormenting you again. I know you think I'm cruel and dismissive, while your poor heart suffers from seeing all these disturbing things. I can't and won't allow them to consume me. You need to erect a wall, find it within you. It is the only way to survive, Peet. Even that man has done it. His detached affect is his way of coping with the hell he's enduring. I'm sure in the inside, he's screaming and ranting. We are screaming on the inside, Peeta. Don't be fooled by the cool and happy exteriors, everyone hides it under the rug. But know this, I love you, and forget Snow's threat. Concentrate on finishing the commissioned painting as fast as you are able. Hide it from Mags, if she goes up there to clean after you. Lock the room. Now… let me love you, like I've wanted to do all night…"

Peeta turned on his back, using his hands to hold Finnick on top of him. He grazed his hands on his back, ending their trail on his backside, grasping it.

"Love me."

Finnick pushed his tongue, tangling it with Peeta's. He missed this, them loving each other. It was healing balm, after feeling distant and despondent. Peeta spread his legs wider, allowing Finnick to rest between them. One hand of each, searched the other's member, coaxing it to full arousal, using the precum as lubrication.

"Let me in… ah fuck baby, I need to in you, be part of you."

Peeta responded by squeezing harder, "Then do it. I'm yours."

Finnick fumbled, trying to hold his position, using one hand for support, the other stroking the rim teasingly. "Don't tease. Just fuck me." Finnick shook his head, "No, I'm going to love you, not fuck you." Until, he was sure he wouldn't hurt Peeta, the tip pushed forward gently. Peeta whimpered, his hands raking over Finnick's back until they grasped his head forcing him forward. He bit Finnick's top lip and tugged, causing Finnick to grunt and thrust, finally completed seated inside him. Languidly, Finnick drew back, swiveled his hips and rocked back and forth. Keeping the set pace, they answered each other in grunts and pants when their mouths weren't connected.

"I love…you…so much, Peet. Ah… fuck yes! Are you gonna come for me?"

Finnick kneeled, gripped Peeta's hips, not relenting his attack. Peeta bucked and hollered, "Harder!" Finnick grinned in his face, and kissed the corner of his mouth, as his hand took hold of Peeta's erect cock. It was hard as rock, the head swollen and weeping. He wanted to kiss it, so he maneuvered himself, momentarily disengaging so he could render his oral prowess.

"SHIT! Oh fuck… Finn… I'm gonna come…"

Finnick suctioned and licked, tasting Peeta in his mouth. He moan in delight, wanting to have it always. His nose brushed the pubic hair, inhaling the musk assaulting his olfactory sense, making him lightheaded. Peeta felt the familiar rush, as he tensed and released into Finnick's mouth. Licking his swollen lips of any residue, Finnick rammed himself without delay, now searching his own nirvana. Losing the control of his muscles, he fell on top of Peeta, his mouth finding Peeta's neck. As the muscles inside Peeta tautened, Finnick licked the sweat off and bit surely leaving a mark. He murmured unintelligible words in Peeta's ear, while Peeta grasped Finnick's buttocks, pushing him harder. With a muted moan against his throat, Finnick came.

In mere minutes, sleep finally caught with them, but not before Finnick's last thought that maybe thing were looking up.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

While the men of the house reconciled their differences, Katniss was left to ruminate over her fate. Not even the morning sickness and Mags' pestering could make her forget, how a test would decide the rest of her life. Finnick stayed distanced from her, and not participating in any conversation were she was involved. Peeta still gave her his brightening smile, but he didn't search for her company or asked her opinion on his art. His eyes and face look haggard. His latest painting seemed to be draining him of his happy disposition, leaving behind a ghost of himself. It was Finnick and his attentions, that brought him back.

The day had arrived for the test, the seventh week of her pregnancy. Both of them were present, waiting for the result. Finnick acted confident that it was boy. Meanwhile, Peeta's legs were restless, as his knee kept bouncing in distress. He pinched his nose, trying to ease the tension headache splitting his head in two. He couldn't fathom, how calm Finnick acted, completely persuaded there was nothing to worry about. Katniss kept her head down, seating with her hands on her lap. But Peeta noticed she was pulling her fingers and biting her lower lip raw.

Finally, the doctor called them into his office. Silence permeated for several minutes, as the doctor read the test result.

"Well, Mr. Odair, Mr. Mellark, I have the most unfortunate news… the child is female. Everything seems in-between the normal ranges. As we discussed before, the option of terminating and trying again in the future-"

"NO! Please! Don't kill my baby, I beg you… please. I'll do anything…"

Katniss had fallen to her knees in front of her master, pleading for the daughter she may never get to hold. Katniss immediately imagined her looking like her sister, with her blonde locks and blue eyes… Oh no, this has to be a nightmare… wake up, Katniss! Fucking wake up! She kept pleading, as she couldn't let them kill her baby. The doctor cleared his throat, looking expectantly for any of them to punish Katniss' insolence. Finnick wanted to throttle her for acting this way in front of other people.

"GET. UP. Not another word out of you. Thank you, doctor. We'll be in touch."

Peeta heard the words, the child is female, in loop inside his head. He was having a daughter, not a son; not the perfect version of himself that Finnick envisioned with his blue eyes and blonde curls. His eyes looked at Katniss, her body trembling, as she tried to hold her sobs, her arms trying to hold her together. He felt tempted to embrace her, but remembered where they were. He had sired a daughter… a girl who would be taken from him, never to see her grow up, hold her in his arms, kiss her cheek good night. Once she was born, she belong to the Republic, to serve the greater good. They had been words before… but now he was fully understanding what those words meant, how the Law directed their lives, bound them to its will. Was it mercy killing the baby now? Dread spread throughout his body at his errant thought.

Finnick hid behind his mask of confidence, keeping it together in front of Peeta. But the devastating result shattered his yearnings for Peeta's son. He wanted to blame someone for this calamity. He sneered at Katniss and her sniveling. Why did he choose her? She had been a thorn on his side, causing havoc in his home and his relationship with Peeta. And now this… a female child grew inside her womb and biology didn't lie. The man's seed was responsible for the sex of the child.

Taking a cleansing breath, Finnick thought of their options, but knowing Peeta wouldn't allow abortion as an option. Resigning himself to this, he pictured living with a pregnant Katniss for the next thirty plus weeks until the birth. What a waste, another child bound to interminable service to the Republic. A dull pain settled on the pit of his stomach. Finnick rubbed his side, but it would abate. It was his guilt physically manifesting, for Finnick was the only one responsible for their current predicament. He wanted a son, Peeta's son, only he wasn't getting it. His desires had catalyzed the first event of a chain reaction set to obliterate what he loved most. The Law had been on his side then, yet now paved the road of most assured heartbreak.


	11. Part XI

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

_A child's voice._

_The rustling of leaves._

_A breeze whispered in his ear._

_"Daddy! Daddy! Look the yellow flowers are everywhere! Can I keep one? Please, Daddy?"_

_A beautiful girl ran ahead of him, picking up as many flowers as her small hands could hold. Her dark chestnut hair was in a long braid, swinging back and forth. She was dressed in sky-blue plain dress that touched her knees. He wanted her to look back at him, so he could see her eyes… he had to see them._

_"Dahlia… please come to Daddy."_

_The child turned back around, running at fun speed crashing into his legs, causing him to fall back. It only made her giggle, and she climbed on top of his chest like it was something she did everyday. Her eyes were steel-gray._

_"Yes, Daddy…"_

_"Where's mommy?"_

_The girl turned somber, and averted her eyes. She dropped the flowers, they didn't matter anymore._

_"She's no more, Daddy. Don't let them take me… Please, Daddy. Stay here with me."_

_As he moved to embrace her, a loud sound, like a firecracker made him look around. He wasn't in the meadow full of dandelions anymore, and the child had disappeared. Blood puddles and moans of pain surrounded him. It had been a gunshot. A lifeless body was displayed in the Capitol Square for all to see, a warning. It hadn't been done in so many years. He tried to get closer, but he couldn't get through the crowd. He tried to yell, but no sound came out. Finally, he was able to push forward, only to want to move back… Katniss was on display, spread-eagle. Her blood spilled from the shot to the head, right between the eyes. Eyes that stared back at him, at first with a white film covering them, but something inside lit up, embers from within. _

A shriek popped his ears, as he gasped trying to breathe.

Peeta touched the bed, feeling it cold and empty. Finnick had left long ago. The news of the female child had practically put a wall between them, with no one knowing how to topple or climb over it. Each escaped to their work, Finnick staying as faraway from the house as possible, while Peeta wasted away in the attic. His second commissioned piece was still a sketch of the tortured man. He hadn't been back into the Presidential Palace, but Snow had let him know he wanted the painting to be done with the Avox's blood. Peeta would be receiving vials to his home. It turned his stomach, just to think of using it. As the finishing touch, he needed to have finished the sketch and then use the fresh blood.

Peeta rubbed his face, in a futile attempt to reset his mind, to forget Snow and his damn painting, Finnick's defensive mechanism, and that dream. From all those things, he didn't want to forget Dahlia, and the way she called him with such love. He wanted her in his arms, and never let her go. See her pick up flowers and giggle. Peeta knew the best way to preserve her was to paint his dream. But he wanted to obliterate the image of Katniss and her deadened eyes staring right at him, coming alive like a phoenix from the ashes.

As he sat back against the headboard, Finnick entered the room already dressed and ready to leave. Peeta wasn't sure it was even daylight outside.

"I heard you scream. Are you okay? I need to be going… some old member of Snow's cabinet is really sick and apparently I'm now under consideration for his position. Try to work on Snow's painting, finish it as soon as you can. Please, for me. It might help my chances, if you make a good impression on President. I'll be gone the day."

Finnick leant over and kissed Peeta, but didn't linger. Peeta huffed in frustration, hating their current situation, and not knowing how to bridge the gap, even less how to discuss the future of his daughter. Resigning himself to an unaccustomed early breakfast, Peeta went into their bathroom, looking forward to a scalding shower.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

It was official, Finnick Odair was now a Presidential delegate. His father would be so proud of his accomplishment, and at his age. It was extremely rare for someone so young to rise the ranks and gain a seat with the President and his most trusted men. The other candidates sneered and murmured all around him, as Cinna flaunted his best friend to anyone they came in contact with. Finnick was getting fed up with it, and the clear jealousy and envy in the eyes of his peers and competition.

"Fine, I'll stop, but we have to celebrate! Let's go to Flavius' favorite hangout. You'll absolutely love it. It will certainly help with your case of blue balls-"

"CINNA! Shut the fuck up! And I don't have… that. Wait, is this place like a whorehouse? Then, I'll have to decline. You know about my vows-"

Cinna rolled his eyes at Finnick and proceeded to keep walking.

"You and those vows will likely cause your lovely cock to fall off. I've heard it happens to the fossils that refuse to die, like the man you're replacing. Don't they understand it's their time to die already? Sheeh… Flavi is here! Come on, stop pouting and growling. It gives you wrinkles and ruins your posture. You can drink all you want, and not partake on the pleasures of the flesh. Maybe seeing Flavi and I, the way we enjoy each other with others, you will see the error of your ways. Who knows, maybe as you stave off your own impulses, Peeta takes his out on that woman he impregnated. Ick. How revolting, when we do have to procreate, Flavius will have to be the one. There's no way I'll be touching that…"

Cinna shuddered dramatically, making Finnick guffaw in response.

"It's not so bad… from what I remember. But, I will concede I don't want to go home yet. So, I accept the invitation, you'll be paying for all my drinks, old friend."

Finnick smirked in Cinna's face, and went ahead to tell the good news to Flavius before Cinna could. Cinna frown in displeasure, "Smug bastard, if I didn't love you so much I'd punch you in your handsome fucking face. Asshole, it was my news to tell." Flavius winked at his lover, waiting for his payback. "So, we are going to _District 13_? Finn you need to let someone blow you, man. It's like an out-of-body experience, you won't regret it. Peeta won't mind. Fuck, I'm gonna come just thinking of the last time… Move your asses," Flavius hollered.

The place was dump, covered in horrifying pastel wallpapers with flowers, and the blinking lights gave Finnick a pounding headache. It stank of sex, sweat, and more sex. Finnick wanted to get his money's worth in drinks, well milk as much as he could from Cinna's generosity. Downing one shot in one gulp, the burning sensation helped him tolerate the suffocating atmosphere. Flavius had been true to his word, disappearing behind a curtain booth with some stud, with a loin cloth as his only piece of clothing. Cinna was bobbing his head to the screeching noise, that supposedly was music.

"Bring another round, sweet cheeks. And don't forget to kiss your paying customer," Cinna continued to flirt with the redheaded man, as Finn swallowed his third drink, or was it his fourth. He shrugged waving for redhead Tony to fill his glass again. A blonde beauty spotted that Finnick was without company, observing him drink one shot after another. Cinna noticed and nudged Finnick, he grunted back annoyed since it caused his drink slosh all over his suit. "Motherfucker, Cinnie, watch what you're doing. Good thing you're paying. Get Red Tony to refill this-" The blonde youth straddled Finnick's waist, and pushed his tongue into his mouth. Finnick was stunned at first, not reacting immediately at the onslaught the stranger subjected him to. The man ground his pelvis against Finnick's lap, causing him to groan at the persistent contact. The blonde bit his lips and tugged on them, making Finnick hiss. His hand yanked on the man's hair causing him to disengage and stand back.

"Fuck, you gotta be the most gorgeous man I've ever seen. My stage name is Cashmere, but you can call me Cato. Wanna go somewhere more private… sir?"

Finnick pushed off his seat, dropping his glass in the process, leaving a mess behind. "Fuck off, Cashmere. I'm a matched citizen, go play with someone's cock. Cinna, I'm leaving," Finnick left without waiting for his friend's reply or goodbye. He was incensed. Cinna was right, he was strung out. He needed to put aside his issues and make up with his Peeta. Wiping his mouth from the slobber and foreign taste, Finnick bumped into someone.

"S-sorry, sir. I-I… shit."

"I wouldn't have imagined I'd find you here, Odair. Not after having been matched to such a catch and declaring your undying love to him. Your vows and your commitment are an inspiration to all citizens… too bad most don't have the fortitude. I would venture a guess and say Cinna is to blame. He and his Flavius are common patrons of this establishment. Congratulations are in order. Your father would be so proud of you, Finn. I'm proud of you-"

Finnick pushed Heavensbee against the nearest wall, "Still licking your wounds, Plutarch. I would think that husband of yours had finally learned to differentiate your dick from your balls. Thanks, I'm proud of myself. Only I forgot I would be seeing you more often than I would like. Stay the hell away from me, and all will be well. Now, I have to return home. Goodnight, sir."

Dropping his hands, and taking a deep breath, Finnick moved back ready to leave this nest of rats.

"As happy I'm for your career, it saddens me that you won't get the son you wanted… this time. I'm sure she'll be a lovely girl, coveted by all to bear their future sons. It is a true gift for the Republic."

Finnick swiveled in place and strode with his fists clenched, "Don't bait me, Heavensbee. For I will retaliate, damn the fucking consequences. I'm not your boy, at your beck and call, waiting on his knees for your next command. You. Lost. Me. Leave me and mine alone. Forget I exist."

But Heavensbee wouldn't quit, "Does Peeta know he's not enough for you? Does he please you completely? Or do you yearn for another's touch? You looked mighty cozy with Cato on your lap, massaging each others' tonsils-"

Finnick simply reacted, letting his body do the talking. His fist connected with Heavensbee's jaw, but it wasn't enough. His next hit broke the man's nose. If he hadn't broken a knuckle, for his hand hurt intensely, Finnick would've kept pounding his face in. Heavensbee, spat and used a handkerchief to stop the blood from staining his shirt. "I'll be seeing you in District 2, Odair. Looking forward to your diplomatic attributes in action," he spoke in a condescending manner, further enraging Finnick as he left the bleeding man in the darken hallway.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Finnick kept cursing, as his hand had swelled up and he could barely move it. He searched the kitchen for an icepack he could use, but he was clueless where everything was. He was tempted to wake up Mags, but probably his racket would do it for him.

"What are you looking for?"

Peeta turned on the lights, blindly Finnick for a few seconds.

"Fuck, turn that off. My head is killing me, as my hand wants to join it. I need ice and a painkiller."

Peeta rushed towards him, inspecting his bruised knuckle, "What the fuck did you do? Punch a wall in your spare time. You didn't get the delegate position? Finn… it will be all right." Finnick brushed Peeta's hair from his forehead with his uninjured hand, gaining his attention, "I got it, Peeta. Cinnie wanted to celebrate and I got into a fight that's all. I'm home now, and you make it all better. You make me all better, I promise."

Finnick kissed tentatively at first, waiting for Peeta's response. Peeta kissed him back, cradling his head deepening it. Finnick was the first to back up, leaning his head on Peeta's forehead, allowing their eyes to meet.

"I have to go to District 2. There's an important meeting, all delegates must attend. Some discontent needs to be appeased. I don't have a timeline, but you'll have to take care of our home, until my return. Mags takes care of everything, so you don't need to worry. Hopefully, by the time I return you have finished that dreadful painting that has you so unhinged. As for the other… issue, we'll discuss it when I come back. Right now I need to crash, for tomorrow will be a very long day."

Peeta helped him get into bed, after cleaning him up as best he could. He sat in bed, beside a snoring Finnick, thinking of one thing. Katniss would be under his care. He would be alone with her, and this time he would not fuck it up. The issue, as Finnick called it, Peeta would find a way to protect his child and its mother. How was still a mystery.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Katniss sat at the windowsill, letting the wind brush her face and wash her tears away. These days they were practically nonstop. Even Mags had no consoling words to sooth Katniss. It was hopeless. She would give birth to a daughter, a girl who would be taken from her body, never to be seen again. At the point, she didn't care what became of her. Returning to the Hob was fair punishment for failing.

The first rays of sunlight beamed on the horizon, casting their light inside her room. Nothing mattered anymore, only the life inside her. How quickly she grew to love her, knowing it was inside her needing her. Katniss missed her father more than ever, for he would now what to do. He was a survivor, who'd even taken a life to save his. Could she do the same for her unborn child? Katniss knew that she was capable of that and more. This brought her to think on her plan, one she tried to brush off, but always came back to. It was her only chance to save her baby.

Make Peeta Mellark fall in love with her.


	12. Part XII

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Finnick was gone for a undeterminable time. Peeta decided to face his procrastination and complete Snow's painting. The jars containing the fresh blood had arrived by special messenger directly from the Presidential Palace. He tried not to think how it had been obtained, but still he shuddered in revulsion.

Peeta stared at the immense canvas, still lost in how to go ahead. He opened one of the containers, and immediately perceived a metallic stench emanating from it. In his rush to close it, Peeta almost spilled the blood. He would need to cover his nose, if he wanted to survive this, for it was guarantee he would get sick. Getting an old brush, he began with swift strokes, which at first sight looked like droplets of red paint. Peeta kept going, depicting in a true sense the man he had seen in the rose garden. The eyes he left blank, and the face devoid of emotion.

As he stood back, Peeta could say it was a testimony to the man's endurance and rebellious spirit. Would Snow see what Peeta had done? It was a risk, that could cost him his life, but Peeta couldn't lie. This painting would immortalize a condemn man, at the same time-serving as tribute to his unbelievable strength.

By the time Peeta deemed it was finished, it was late afternoon. His stomach was growling and he needed to stop, and come tomorrow with a fresh mind. Knowing he had to get rid of the blood, Peeta turned the faucet and turned over the containers, watching what was left of the congealed blood wash down the drain. If only it were so easy for him to forget what he had witness and was an accomplice.

Now, he wanted to draw and paint his dream, give life to his daughter, Dahlia. He wanted to fill this attic with depictions of her. Looking through drawers and his materials, he would have to replenish his stash and get new brushes and canvases. When Finnick returned, Peeta would show him and make him see. He was sure he would be able to convince Finn to protect and keep his daughter. He could almost hear her giggles and her voice calling him "daddy". Yet there was a second part to his dreams, one that merited his attention and a prompt solution. His Dahlia needed her mother.

Washing his hands and covering the painting, Peeta left to find some sustenance. In the kitchen, he could hear Mags' soothing voice, "Feeling better, dear? I remember and don't envy you that morning sickness, that's really all-day-long sickness. But what do men know? They know nothing of women, much less babies. I was blessed to see mine grow up…" Peeta hated to intrude in the private conversation, but his body was at its limit. He made some noise, to show he was about to barge into the room.

"Hello, Mags. What's for dinner? I'm starving."

He gave her his accustomed smirk, which caused her to laugh and beckon him forward.

"Give this old woman a hug, young man. I've missed you… I don't like it when you get lost inside that head of yours, and those damn paints. You didn't leave for me to clean up after, right? You're too old for that, and I'm too fragile to keep after you."

Peeta shook his head and smiled, as Mags reprimanded him in jest. For some reason, she had taken to him, loved him immediately and treated him as if he had always been part of the family. He hugged her harder than usual, causing her to slap him away.

"Stop that, you scoundrel! I can hear your insides talking. I'm making some stew for Katniss, but for you there's some steak I bought fresh from the market-"

At the mention of steak, Katniss' stomach reacted violently, causing her to run from the room. Peeta was about to go after her, but Mags stopped him. She touched his face, getting his attention, "Don't you worry. She will be fine in a couple of weeks, hopefully. It's the hormones and your girl growing inside her. Any distinct smell can set the nausea off, and there's no stopping it. Now, let's feed you."

Katniss didn't return to the kitchen. She was lying down in her bed, with the window opened letting the wind calm her. She hated feeling so weak. It made more impotent. And she lost an opportunity to be around _him_. Mags had come by, and practically force-fed her the lamb stew. How she knew it was her favorite, Katniss didn't know. Tears fell down the corner of her eyes, as she remembered how difficult it was to find lamb meat, but her father would not stop until he came home with it. He wanted his girl to eat her favorite meal, even at the cost of his own life. Stop Katniss, she berated herself. She needed to keep her mind-set on the plan, thoughts clear of the past.

"Prim… I really need you. Please, tell everything will be okay. Tell me I will save this baby, take her from this place… even if I don't see her again, I'll know she's safe. That she'll have a real life."

She must have dozed off, when a knock on her door startled from her slumber. It wasn't Mags, for she would simply open the door without any remorse. That left only one other person. Peeta.

"I-I'm sorry if I disturbed you… I wanted to see if you were better. Do I need to call the doctor-"

"No! It will pass. I'm feeling better already. Thank you… Peeta."

Katniss tried to smile, but she was sure she absolutely failed. Peeta looked her over, seeing she was in a navy colored shift. It was different from the one she had worn earlier. Her face was still pale, but her eyes reflected a sadness she couldn't hide. For a few seconds, they both remained silent, standing only a foot apart. Peeta decided to bite the bullet, "I know how much you enjoyed the garden, and since I'm confident I finished my last project… I was thinking if you'd like to aid me in restoring it, the garden I mean… But if you don't want to that's fine, I mean if you feel to sick-" Katniss touched his forearm, stopping Peeta's nervous rambling.

"I would love to help… I don't have anything to do with my time, only wait. A girl can go mad, stuck inside with only her thoughts as companions. But I have to draw the limit… you will do the heavy lifting, deal?"

Even if her hand had touch for just a second, it was enough to scorch his skin. He was so entranced, Peeta missed most of what Katniss had spoken, only hearing her last words and her hand waiting for his shake.

"Deal."

Their hands touched, his fingers gripped her proffered hand, and Peeta felt tempted to pull her against his chest and kiss her lips. But Katniss dropped his hands, as if she had heard his thoughts.

"When do we start?"

She had said _we_. He had to use this opportunity to mend his precarious relationship with Katniss, and then bring her in on his plan to save Dahlia. He wondered if she would approve of the name. It was a flower, just like her name and her sister's, so it was fitting and following her family's tradition.

"Tomorrow? I will have to buy some supplies, but I think we can start by cleaning up the debris. What time?"

This time, Katniss had no problem smiling, "I'll see at nine, after breakfast. Goodnight, Peeta."

Peeta was elated, and grinned back, "Goodnight, Katniss."

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

With each slight touch, every meaningful glance, Peeta established a hesitant friendship with Katniss. Every morning for a week, they would meet in the chaotic garden, working together. Old Mags stayed away, only interrupting to announce lunch, and sometimes they would hang out until dinner. The new flowers had been selected by Katniss, a variety of wild flowers, the ones she had grown up with in the meadow. Peeta asked her to describe this place, and to his astonishment, it was too close to his dream.

"Peeta… you seem a little pale. Maybe we should stop for today. I mean, I feel a bit dizzy myself, so I wouldn't mind lying down for a while…"

"So, this meadow it had dandelions?"

"Yes… my sister would pick them up. When there was nothing to eat, we could eat them. Not the most tastiest meal, but it would do… Peeta? What's wrong with you?"

Peeta stood from the new wire chairs they had bought, walking and yanking on his hair. Katniss noticed his flushed face, and could hear his panting breath. As she was about to approach him, Peeta took a step back.

"I need to be alone. I need to think… Tell Mags I'll be in the attic and to not disturb me."

Peeta hated himself even more. Running away like a coward, instead of facing her and telling her his dreams. What did they mean? Where they premonitions of the future? He was going to drive himself to madness. And that fucking painting still hung on his easel, taunting him with another's life in the balance. Was the Avox still alive? Or had Snow gotten impatient and killed him for sport? Snow hadn't contact him again, but he expected Peeta to deliver the piece personally. Peeta rubbed his face, and raked his fingers through his already disheveled hair.

His saving grace were the paintings he had done of his Dahlia. He'd painted her frolicking through the meadow, dandelions at her feet. He had done closeups of her face, her hair and her eyes. She was so real in his mind, there was no way he would surrender to a life in a place like the Hob or join the labor forces in the other districts. Dahlia belonged with him… with them. He had to make Finnick see her, know she was real and she was his daughter too. They had to protect her from the Law and from Snow, no matter the cost. Peeta knew what all this meant. The life they had led until now was pointless. It held no meaning for him, and he would gladly give it up for a life where Dahlia was with him. Katniss was part of that life, Peeta would make it so. They could live together, the way her family did for so many years. This time no one would find them. In several years, Peeta would get to his Dahlia running freely and picking up dandelions, as he did in his dreams.

The last time he dreamt of his daughter, Peeta had made a promise. His Dahlia would keep her mother, somehow he would prevent the execution he kept seeing over and over. Katniss would live, and see her daughter grow up.

Time slipped from Peeta, only the presence of someone inside the room woke him from his stupor. On his lap, was a drawing of Finnick, Peeta and Katniss watching Dahlia twirl in the sun. He hadn't finished coloring it with the special pencils he'd bought recently. He pushed the notepad from his lap letting it fall on the sofa. The light was off, so he couldn't decipher who had invaded his sacred space.

"Mags? I told you to leave me alone… Besides, I'm up and I'll be going to my bed-"

"What are these, Peeta? Who is she? Why am I in some of these paintings?"

It wasn't Mags. Katniss had entered unannounced and was seeing his private thoughts sprawled on every available surface. The only light was coming from an outside source, only letting shadows of his work visible. He stood and turned a lamp in the corner. He cracked his back, trying to fix the kinks caused by the uncomfortable position of his nap. She had found his most recent drawing, the one he had left on the sofa. Her eyes looked over it with intensity, then her eyes met his, glaring at him.

"Is that why you asked about the meadow? So you could use it for this… what the hell is all this? Explain!"

Peeta walked towards the window, staring at the night sky. Taking deep breaths, he prepared himself to tell her the only truth he knew.

"Ever since I found out about… I've been having these dreams. Dreams of another place, one I've never been to, a meadow full of wild flowers, but mostly dandelions. I'm not alone in this place. A girl, not older than five, calls to me. She calls me her d-daddy. Her eyes, they are so much like yours. Her hair is a chestnut color with waves. She has the most beautiful laugh. Her name is Dahlia. And I love her…"

Katniss dropped the notepad, and paced until her hands clashed with his chest. Her eyes were already welling with tears she was trying to hold.

"S-stop it! STOP! You lie! You can't say such things… She's mine. She's my daughter. Neither you or your Finnick want her. You'll send her away once she's out of my body. You'll condemn her to a life of misery, just like every other female born in the Republic. We mean nothing but vessels to produce your perfect sons, but if they are female, they are bound to unjust servitude. How many live till old age? Mags is just anomaly, a woman who was lucky enough to land herself into the hands of the Odairs. Connections and greed, lust and power, that's what runs this cursed city. And you… you simply wait in the shadows. You do nothing!"

Peeta felt the tears fall, as his hands held Katniss. She was now sobbing, having lost her strength. She was right. He was an accomplice, all men had bowed down long ago to the Law without question. What was Snow hiding in those paintings, in his moral stand? Peeta tried to forget that scene, the one that turned his stomach. Snow had said women were at fault. Why? Weren't the men the ones raping the defenseless woman? What were the justifications for alienating women from public life? His head pounded, and he knew there was no way he would sleep again tonight.

"Come with me, let's go to my room. You'll be comfortable there. If you'd like, I can draw you a bath and you may sleep there… I'll stay here-"

"Don't… I can't enter in there, please. Let's just stay here. Tell me about… Dahlia. Such a pretty name. I do like it."

"There's not much room here… I don't want you to be uncomfortable. This sofa isn't the most accommodating. I can tell from experience."

Both laughed, sitting side by side, Katniss getting closer, until her head rested on his shoulder. Peeta talked about how Dahlia smiled, how her eyes brightened when she saw him run after her, and her happy giggles. Katniss felt jealous of Peeta's dreams, even if it was just made up in his head. She couldn't really make herself believe they were real. The child growing inside her was doomed, only she would be able to save her even if it ended her life. She had to stick to her plan.

Peeta had stopped his monologue, now staring at his latest drawing. It was the first one featuring Finnick. He was sitting beside him, giving his famous devilish smirk. He missed him. They were partners, and as such their future was intertwined. Peeta could only hope Finnick thought like this as well, even against adversity. The brush of lips on his neck startled him. It caused him to shiver all over. He moved back, meeting Katniss hooded eyes. He wasn't sure if it was desire staring back at him. He wanted her, that hadn't changed, but he didn't want to use his station and simply demand her compliance. He wasn't seeking a child, it had been accomplished. Peeta wanted Katniss' voluntary surrender, to connect with her, to feel her melding with him, in joint release.

Katniss controlled her breathing, maintaining eye contact with her master. Yes, he was still her master, her enemy, but one that would serve in her plan. His blue eyes, with an internal source of light, unnerved her. Could he see right through her? She hesitated, averting her eyes, now staring at his throat. She felt confusion and self-disgust. It would be too easy to slip, to let herself feel… feel for him. For the first time, Katniss emphasized with dear Mags. Living in captivity had clearly fucked-up her mind. Her lips touched his skin once again, her nose inhaling his manly scent, musk and sweat. Her tongue slipped out and licked his adam's apple, making Peeta grunt in response.

"W-what are you doing to me?"

She didn't know. She was completely inexperienced, clueless as how to go ahead. Katniss had always believed her future was set, and she would marry Gale. How that changed in a second, and her whole life was ruined. But Katniss now knew, Peeta Mellark wasn't a monster. He was victim of his circumstances, stuck in a society which perpetuated and indoctrinated, generation after generation against women. She knew the alternative, she'd been lucky to have lived it for so many years.

In turn, Peeta was the one surrendering to her.

Lips clashed in the darkness of the attic, with only the crescent moon as witness.


	13. Part XIII

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Finnick is bored out of his mind. The sessions go on forever in District 2, with the snobs and kiss-ass looking for a vote in their favor. Illicit dealings under the table or sexual favors of any kind had been offered for his influence, but he would simply keep walking. It bothered him that this type of thing happened to his father. Power came with a price, and abundant nuisance. Flicking the ashes from his cigarette, he gazed the view from his private quarters. A mountain. Small villages surrounding it. That's all. Finnick didn't understand what was the appeal to live in such a place. In the Capitol, there were options, culture and excitement, a real city life. Here, it was…only that mountain.

He had never been beyond this district, and seeing this made him think it would only get worse. He had been lucky to have inherit his father's estate and privileges in some measures. His place in the Capitol's social ladder, had been attained on his own effort. Being cast aside, disowned, would've been a real catastrophe. Finnick and Peeta would be working the fields, or inside a filth ridden mine. Not everyone got to have acres of land, to build your own farm and have people work them. It would be impossible to get your vessel and have descendants, much less have something to leave behind as inheritance.

He was so lucky.

Finnick had everything he ever could have wanted. The man of his dreams beside him. A promotion that would set his place in the Republic. The only setback had found out the child was a girl…Peeta's daughter. He cringed thinking about what the doctor had practically implied needed to be done. He couldn't deny he'd been tempted, but knowing Peeta it would never be a viable option. The second setback, he knew this would bring more problems, for Peeta would not simply give this child up. How did he face this next challenge? How to make Peeta understand it was impossible to keep her? This child, once it was born, would be property of the Republic of Panem. There was no escape clause in the Law. It was plain black and white. Every female child born from a vessel is property of Panem, to be used for the betterment of its people. How this female would be used? It would be determined, but nothing depended from her progenitors.

His third setback, Katniss. A real pain in the ass. Finnick knew choosing her was a mistake. He would've chosen any other. But he had to choose the one with the steel eyes and defiant gaze. The one Peeta had immediately connected with, his eyes locked on her, and hers looking back as if she could feel it. Damn her to the mining pits. Once that child was born and taken away, he would make sure its mother would go far from them as well.

And here he was, giving her space to pounce on his sweet and gullible Peeta. She would pretend to be sad and worried, with pains and sickness, while Peeta would cater to her every need.

Finnick threw the empty glass against the window. The crystal broke, but the window stayed unblemished by his tantrum. He needed to numb his mind, and maybe his heart.

So much for being lucky.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Katniss woke in a strange place. It surely wasn't her room. A straight beam of light was hitting her right in her forehead. But that wasn't the only thing that was different. A chest. She was resting on top of someone, who hadn't woken up yet. Opening her eyes slowly, and using her hands to lift herself, Katniss found half-lidded blue eyes staring back at her. She blushed involuntarily, while Peeta smiled broadly back. His hands held her closer, like trying to keep her in place. She wanted to bolt, to get to her room, to where she felt safe. His fingers brushed her lips, while his eyes stared intensely into hers. Still, no words were spoken.

What had she done? Spend the night in the attic, with a man. Kissing said man until exhaustion. She closed her eyes. It was too much, and yet it was all according to plan. Get it together Katniss, she recriminated mentally. This was the only way to secure her daughter's future. Dahlia. He'd already picked her name, a flower's name. It was fitting to her family's tradition, and she had to admit it warmed her heart.

"Don't…Do you regret last night? Please say something… I-I better go…"

Peeta felt wretched, seeing Katniss' fight within. He should have let her go last night. But then it hadn't been all him. She had instigated his reactions. She wanted it as much as he had. Yet, the guilt was there, simmering in his stomach. He was a bastard. What was his word worth now? Nothing. How could he look into Finnick's eyes again and proclaim he loved him above anyone else? Their vows had been different. In the Capitol, it was extremely uncommon for a matched couple to swear fidelity. It was all about companionship and living a life together until their passing, to create a home in which their offspring would grow and prosper.

Peeta had failed in the most sacred of vows.

Katniss stood up from the sofa and walked towards the window, towards the light. She could hear the birds' song. It was her turn to imagine her little Dahlia running in the garden… and her father after her. It was here, in that garden that she would be free. Unwelcome tears slipped from her eyes, Katniss cleared them quickly. She had to be strong. She was a survivor, and her daughter would be the next generation.

Peeta let his head rest on his hands, as he sat forward. It was just one night…he hadn't fucked her. He'd only held her in his arms…exchanged kisses. It was nothing really. He was overreacting. Taking deep breaths, Peeta decided to face the day and forget his momentary slip.

"Are you hungry? I'm sure Mags must be in the kitchen at his very moment…if not she will be looking for you-"

"I don't regret it. Not one single second. I'm sorry…if I have done something… I'll see you later, Peeta."

She left swiftly from the room, leaving a baffled Peeta behind. He saw her determination to say she was sure of her actions, but Peeta believed she was contrite. It was wrong for him, but it was also wrong for her. She knew the Law. Her purpose as vessel was completed. She was with child. There was no further contact. Every touch and kiss that had taken place in that room was strictly forbidden. One witness, and their lives would be forever changed. Just one witness.

"Fuck… What were you thinking? You love Finnick. He is your life. You need to find a way to save your daughter. As for Katniss… fuck-"

A knock stopped his personal ranting, it was Mags. She pushed the door, her eyes looking around.

"Dear boy… did you sleep in here? What the devil's balls nest is wrong with you? Get up! Talking to yourself… pfft. Wait until Finnick comes back, I'll tell him he can't leave you alone no more than a week or you'll be a wreck without him. He better take you with him next time. Go take a shower! You stink! I won't give you any food until you look presentable… and smell like a well raised boy. I'll be seeping in here, and don't want any protesting from you. This place is a pigsty-"

Peeta touched Mags cheek, looking directly into her aquamarine eyes.

"Don't throw away any of my drawings, just set them on top of my desk. I'm gonna get ready and you'll give me that breakfast you've made with so much love. I'll be taking that painting to its owner today, so no peeking, Mags. I mean it. It's for his eyes only, and mine unfortunately. Love you."

He kissed her forehead, seeing her grinning back, only showing a few of her remaining teeth. Mags stared at the sofa, as if it was speaking to her, telling her its secrets. She knew Katniss had been here, slept in this very room. The only conclusion was she had slept with Peeta in that very spot. Her Finnick must never know. She rubbed her chest, trying to keep the ache at bay. She would do anything for this to never surface again. But she wasn't sure if the guilt she saw in Peeta would be enough to halt this situation. How she wished for Finnick's return immediately.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Peeta's calls to Snow went unanswered. Every excuse given implied he was too busy to attend a silly call. The assistant's voice got more grating each time. By the fourth time, Peeta gave up. It seemed his plans for the day were cancelled. He had no interest to risk going unannounced to the Presidential Palace and seeing any more of its secrets. It irked him knowing that the painting would have to stay another day.

For now he had no commissioned work, so he could dedicate his time to painting and drawing Dahlia. He had dreamt of her again last night. It had been in the meadow, and she had picked flowers while he stayed back watching her. This time she had asked him where was her mommy and as he tried to answer, the dream changed tonight and they were no longer alone. Katniss was there calling Dahlia to her, but Peeta couldn't get closer. They were being snatched from his reach. He awoke to find that Katniss hadn't gone anywhere; she had stayed. It was the only reason, he went back to sleep.

It was noon, and he hadn't seen Katniss. He was curious to peek into the garden, catching her in her restored sanctuary. But knowing Mags was around, stopped him. After last night, space between them was a necessity. Finally, Peeta decided to visit his attic and draw his latest dream.

Meanwhile, Katniss was thinking the same thing. She was afraid she had been too forward, and now had scared him away. She had nothing to lose but her daughter, while Peeta had life and a husband he loved. Only she had no idea how much time she had left. Once Finnick returned, she would be confined to her room. Her plan had to be implemented now, when they were alone. She thought of going up to the attic again and wait for him there. Mags said she had to clean, maybe Katniss could help her with that. It was cruel to make the old woman go all the way up. Her mind made up, Katniss looked into the garden. It was once again a peaceful place. Maybe it would be better to spend some time there, and talk with Prim. Later, she thought.

Going up the steps, Katniss used the handrail. She felt tired, even though she had mostly slept last night. Right at the top, the door was ajar, and she could hear the scratching of a pencil. Peeta was inside. She hesitated, not knowing if she should knock or simply announce she was here. Her weight and the creaking of the floorboard did it for her. Peeta stopped what he was doing, and came to the door.

"Yes? Oh… Katniss. Do you need something? I-I mean, come in."

Her presence in this space flustered him, and once again he was trapped with her. Katniss walked inside and looked around briefly noticing the covered pairing was still in the room. Scattered on top of the desk and sofa, she saw several drawings in various stages of complexity. Most appeared to be what Peeta believed was their daughter. Good, they were both of the same mind, Katniss thought. It reaffirmed her presence in that room.

"Did you have lunch? I'm sure Mags will re-heat it for you. Today, I only had some soup. My stomach wouldn't allow me to eat anything stronger. Are these…Dahlia?"

Her conversational skills were poor. Not having much to speak about she had to go right to the drawings that encircled them. Peeta blinked for a few seconds without saying a word, then like some bolt fell into place and brought him back to life, he replied.

"I'm not that hungry, but I'm sure she'll be badgering me to eat something later. She was here earlier trying to clean up, but I stopped her for injuring herself. This room is my responsibility, but who makes her understand that. Stubborn old goat that she is…Are you feeling ill? Should I call the doctor? Maybe it would be best-"

"I'm fine. Mags tells me it's normal."

Katniss grabbed the closest drawing, tracing with her finger the indentations on the paper. He had used such force dragging that pencil, giving it life. Her other hand touched her increasing bump. She wondered if her baby would truly look like this, would she become Peeta's Dahlia. Peeta's gasp startled Katniss, making her gaze into his eyes.

"I can't wait to meet her… I saw her again last night. Your eyes stared back at me, she'll have your gray eyes."

Katniss felt like her throat was closing up. She held the tears, brushing her eyes away and coughing as she tried to breathe. She had to talk about something else, or she'll break in front of him.

"H-how did you know you were going to be a renewed artist?"

Peeta could see Katniss' intent to bury the rising emotion, and decided to play along.

"My father was a baker. Deep down I know, he wanted me to learn the same, and be his legacy. His partner had a better station, and discovered my talent early on. I was his favorite of the Mellark sons, never conceiving children of his own we were his children too. Yet, he insisted we call him uncle Jackson. He was the one who financed my schooling. That's how I had the best teachers. He was so proud of me. My father was too…but none of his children followed his footsteps. My brothers inherited land in different districts from uncle Jackson. He died when I was only thirteen. He left a trust fund that would continue to pay for my education and expenses. He set my life in the Capitol, and that's how its been until I was matched to Finn… I haven't seen my brothers in years. Only one of them stayed here, but he doesn't look for me, and I don't look for him."

"My father didn't look for another partner. Once Jackson died, a great part of him died with him. It was only a matter of time for death to take him. People said my father died of a broken heart, not seeing the future generation of Mellarks. I'm sure my brothers have made sure of the next Mellark generation. Farm owners are known to take more than one vessel at a time, to assure multiple descendants. It's not a common practice here in the Capitol, even if the Law doesn't prohibit it. Not everyone can pay the fees and taxes, though. Out there in the other districts things are done differently, under the Law. So, I can't claim to be the first father in the Mellark line…maybe the first daughter."

Sitting side by side, Katniss searched for Peeta's hand and squeezed it. Their eyes met, and both knew things were once more turning dangerous. She was the first to bridge the gap and her lips grazed his. Peeta closed his eyes, closing their connection. He had to stop this, but how to find the strength to do so.

"It will be different…she will have her father. I promise you, Katniss. Dahlia will have us."

He could clearly see her in his head, her smile and her eyes, even hear her giggles and her calling him daddy. She was his blood, made of his flesh, nothing could be stronger. Forgive me, Finnick, Peeta muttered. His words were enough, for her only driving force was saving her child. Katniss kissed him, softly at first, but finding herself pulled into his lap. His hands were touching her, as her tongue found his open mouth, as he searched for air. It was happening, but in her own terms. She would be in control.

Sitting astride, her hands pulled his head back by the hair on his nape. Peeta grunted back, as Katniss stared. This was the moment, he had to decide if he was going to fall. She was ready, and he was going to be hers. Grinding her hips against his lap, Peeta whimpered his arousal more than obvious between his legs. She was torturing him, and demanding his full surrender. How fitting than in the past, Katniss was the offering to be plundered. Now, she demanded payment. Their eyes didn't stray from each other, as their bodies moved on their own.

Her hands pushed his shirt up and off his chest, blindly him for just a few seconds. She dropped it on the floor, her fingers now after the contours of his bare chest. She brushed over his chest hair, almost entranced by it, while her pelvis kept swiveling on top of him. He wanted more friction, he needed it. His hands moved from her back, to take hold of her hips intending to direct them. It enraged her, causing her to push him back and imprison his hands within her grasp. She shook her head.

"No. I move. I touch. You stay."

Standing on her knees, Katniss proceeded to peel her shift off her body, exposing it to Peeta's eyes. The slight breeze coming from the open window caused her nipples to tighten and swell. As she kept her rhythm the taut tips made contact with Peeta's skin. He gasped at the contact, wanting so badly to take them into his mouth, and lave them with his tongue. Katniss saw his desire, and taking hold of his hair pushed his face closer. His eyes asked permission, he waited for her command.

"Do it…kiss me."

Without thinking it twice, his lips encircled one breast, both moaning in unison. This was so different from any of their previous encounters. No one was watching, and he wasn't in control. His hands were freed from the hold of her hands, as she unfastened his pants. His mouth moved to the other nipple, nibbling it and blowing on it. Her hands stopped, as her hips gained momentum. She was out of breath, her breast heaving, her skin flushed and glistening. Her release was getting closer, and Peeta wanted to see it. Using one of his thighs, Katniss rocked back and forth, using his shoulders as support.

Peeta let the nipple drop from his mouth, looking for Katniss's eyes, wanting that connection. Her nails bit into his flesh, a silent command to continue his previous assignment, but he was waiting for the right moment. She was getting restless, and her thrusting faster. At last, their eyes met, Peeta took the nipple back inside his mouth and sucked. The sensation was so intense, in combination to the stimulation between her legs, a wave from within expanded like a silent explosion. Well, not that silent, as her mouth opened and her moans escaped. She nuzzled his neck, using his skin to quiet her uncontrollable sounds.

As she tried to calm down her heart and normalize her breathing, Peeta's lips grazed her earlobe.

"Nothing has ever been so beautiful. Only that child that grows within you will surpass it. Let me see it again, one more time…"

It was then, Katniss saw she hadn't finished undressing him. She had been impatient and pursued her own pleasure. It hadn't been about him, but now she had to ensnare him. Make Peeta fall in love with her, that was her goal.

Her hands pushed his trousers lower, and Peeta aided her in the task. His erection strained against his belly, its head wet with a milky substance. He was beyond aroused. Peeta feared that one brush of her hand would be sufficient. Repositioning herself, she straddled his waist, leaving not much space between them. With eyes connected, mouths followed, the kiss getting deeper. With his lip between her teeth, Katniss used one hand to place his penis at her entrance.

Fall.

Let go.

It was different dance. Peeta had experienced this need, but this time it was so unique. This body smell and tasted unlike Finnick's. This body housed his daughter; it was giving her nourishment and keeping her safe. He wasn't going to last long, his testicles straining against his body. His hands held her hips pushing down as she bucked; this time without protest from Katniss. His eyes watched as she once again strived for release. In some way, having her in this way made her his, even if she was controlling him. Her body was his, her womb full of his child. This feeling had no comparison.

Her panting breath fell on his face, as his touched her neck and breast. Their moans and grunts were tempered, muzzled against a shoulder or neck. Their release was near, but yet so far. It was like none of them wanted it to end. This was the one and only opportunity. It was unspoken between them, but clear in the air they breathed. With one flick of his finger against her clitoris, Katniss thrust downward, her walls contracting; she experienced the warmth flowing, and her body spasming as she orgasmed.

She collapsed on his chest, her lips kissing his neck, as his hips continued to rock into her, feeling the aftereffects of her release. His body convulsed in pleasurable waves, feeling the swift swelling and spurting of his seed. It was his turn to moan against her breast.

Peeta fell back on the sofa, tucking Katniss at his side. Both were already half-asleep, and evading any discussion of their actions. It was done, and they would have to face the consequences together. With eyes closed and hands embracing her, Katniss reveled at how well she had executed her plan. Mind and body had joined, allowing her to be the conqueror and not the conquered. Before losing consciousness, she murmured to her child, "Don't worry little one, momma will keep you safe."

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Later, that very same evening, Katniss roused before Peeta. She could hear his snore, more like a rumbling tummy. Maybe he was hungry, she surmised. Searching for her shift, Katniss untangled herself from his grasp, and got up. She felt sore between her legs, but not like the first few times she'd been with Peeta. The room was dark and smell of sex. She hoped Mags had stayed preoccupied elsewhere. Dressed with nothing to do, Katniss went to the desk browsing over the drawing sprawled on the surface. There were more drawings of Dahlia, of her, and even of Finnick. Seeing him even in black and white was disconcerting. How long did she had before Peeta's other half came home? She had to endure and push forward, all for the sake of her child.

Turning around, the only thing standing in her way was the painting. It was President Snow's painting. It was covered with a tarp thrown over it. It was beckoning to be uncovered. There wasn't adequate lighting, so Katniss switch on a small lamp on the desk. She heard a squeak from Peeta's direction, but thankfully he had simply changed his sleeping position. Standing in front of the painting, Katniss scrunched her nose at a foul odor coming from it. With a quick yank, the cover dropped to the floor reveling… the most frightening discovery. It was in reds and browns, swirls of it, depicting a tortured face. A face Katniss recognized. She couldn't draw breath. She was dying. He was dying. There was nothing but red and brown, she was drowning in it. Her hand was about to touch it when she heard a hitched breath. Peeta was awake, and so was she. It wasn't a nightmare. It was real. She wanted to destroy it, obliterate any trace of it.

"No…no. It can't be. Oh, please…please. GALE! GALE! GALE!"


	14. Part XIV

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

It was too much for her body to handle. Katniss fell to her knees, her eyes still locked on the painting. It was him, even without color and real definition. She knew it was Gale. Seeing his face again, it had been a kept hope. Now, Katniss knew she would never see him again. Gale Hawthorne was a dead man walking, bidding his time until the very last breath. His life was not his own anymore. He was a slave, a mere property at the hands of President Snow. Her body started to convulse involuntarily. She was barely taking air, as she let herself fall.

Katniss Everdeen was finally giving up.

Peeta tried to rile her up, but without success. She had closed her eyes, her body like dead weight in his arms. Only her slow heartbeat and slight inhalations let him know she was still alive. His eyes stared up at the dreadful painting. It was even more gruesome now. It was like the blood was dripping off, rivulets of blood ready to swallow him whole. This man, the one he had seen kneeling before him, Katniss knew him. She had seen what was forbidden.

"Please forget… you need to forget, Kat. MAGS! MAGS! I need your help!"

Peeta tried to stand with Katniss in his arms, but he could barely lift her. Loud steps alerted him of Mags' presence about to enter this horrifying scene. He found strength to lay her on the sofa, as he covered the painting from view, just as Mags barged into the room.

"What's wrong Peeta? Oh my! What's happened to Katniss? What have you done, boy?"

The poor woman touched her forehead, finding it sweaty and hot. She tried to open her eyes, and check her pulse. Old Mags was no fool. She knew what had happened inside that attic, the smell and state of disarray giving it away. She closed her eyes willing to keep her mouth shut. It was good her dear Finn wasn't home yet, for this would kill his caring soul. Betrayed by the one he loved most. As she assessed Katniss' state, Peeta paced and yanked on his hair.

"You better stop that, or you'll be bald by nightfall. She's just in shock. She saw something…she shouldn't and her body is protecting itself. We have to get her into her bed. I'll keep watch over her. You get rid of that thing… today. Not a word of this day will pass through our lips. Do you understand, Mellark?"

Peeta looked into Mags sea-green eyes, and nodded. It was a rare occasion, when said woman would refer to him by his family's name. He was her Peeta since the very moment he stepped inside this house. He cringed and gazed upon Katniss' motionless body. He couldn't help her, and he had unfinished business to attend.

Before he left to get ready, Peeta leant down to kiss her forehead, knowing Mags was watching. His lips brushed her ear, as he murmured, "You are the strongest person I know… you will survive this and more. Forget, my Kat. I need you to forget. And… find forgiveness for what has been done… I will come back to you. Take care of our Dahlia."

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

The palace was deserted this time. No avox to guide him. No petulant assistant eyeing him from head to toe. He had been let inside by a simple servant, in red colored clothes emblazoned, with the Capitol's seal in gold. The opulent room had a lingering scent of tobacco and sex. Peeta refrained from sitting in any of the chairs. The walls in this chamber were covered in bucolic scenery, of shepherds and fields, so different from the paintings he had seen in the ballroom.

A particular painting caught his attention. It was one of a forest, a small cabin, and a lake. For some reason it seemed familiar to him, but Peeta knew he had never seen it. He got closer, looking at every detail, almost sure he had seen a meadow with dandelions in the background. It was so like his…a cough alerted him that he was no longer alone.

"Mr. Mellark? I'm Haymitch Abernathy, the President's private tutor for his sons…last time we didn't properly meet. I see you are looking at District 12. Wonderful place, don't you think?"

"District 12? Have you been there, sir?"

Peeta turned, locking his gaze upon the intruder. It was the man he had seen that day, the one that had let loose the little brat. It appeared he was more lucid today, not smelling of liquor and not a hair out-of-place. Abernathy stared back, not intimated by a simple boy. Was this the hope of the future? He scoffed, and moved in the direction of the decanter. He was too sober for this shit, Haymitch thought.

"Want one, Mellark? I think you're going to need more of this in the coming days… How's your…what's his name Filch… no Finnick, Finnick Odair? I heard he's moving up into a bright future. You must be sooo proud-"

Peeta sneered, "State your business Abernathy. Enough with the sarcasm."

Haymitch answered him with a sardonic laugh, "You need to grow some balls, boy. Or you'll be eaten alive. You've entered into the lion's den, and the only way out is with blood, sweat and tears on your back. Let's go somewhere more… fresh shall we?"

Peeta felt tempted to just turn the way he came and leave. The painting had been taken by the servant. He'd been assured it was going directly into a safe room, only to opened by Snow. He tried to question how the painting would be placed inside, but the servant had left him inside this room. And now he was stuck with this nuttier. Curiosity made him humor the man and follow his request.

They were now outside in one of the adjoining gardens. This one had no roses, and for that Peeta was grateful. He took gulps of the fresh air, trying to cleanse his lungs. Abernathy was looking around, as if making sure they were not followed.

"You saw him… I know you did. He is a good man, who doesn't deserve this fate. You must know this has to end. The Snow reign and the Law has to be stopped and bring freedom to Panem's people. You must want it for your baby girl… for the woman who carries her. You and your Finn have to make them see… really see what's been done. It is time for the Mockingjay."

Peeta listened to every word, each one making his insides churn. It was treason. A sure way to a quick execution, maybe a revival of a very public spectacle for the enjoyment of the proud Capitol citizens, devoted followers of the Law.

"Why do you say such things to me? Don't you fear I'll report every single word you've spouted off? Why me?"

Haymitch kept his facing forward, his hands locked and resting on his lower back. Peeta wasn't certain if the man wanted to appear calm and collected. He was ready to bolt and never look back. He took a few steps back, readying his escape.

"You've got a lot to lose, boy. It doesn't matter to me, if you tell on me. I'm dead anyway. This is no life. I once had it all in those woods you seemed mesmerized in. I've seen the real thing. I've experienced what real freedom is. Not this… prison you have known all your days. I have lived where no Law can touch you. Your woman…she lived it too. Catnip was Gale's nickname for her. If not for those poachers, they would've made a lovely couple…with five o six kids running around the valley. It is too late for him, but don't make it so for Katniss. She deserves better than this, Peeta. I know you're a good man. This…is not your world. Make it so."

Abernathy was about to leave him all alone in that garden, but Peeta stopped him.

"It would mean my life or Finn's, or both. How can I seriously consider such act of sedition? I-I love Finn…it is not fair to him, that forget what our lives mean to each other…for your dreams of revolution and total anarchy. How could it be accomplished? I have no power…"

The man with blue-gray eyes and wheat-colored hair, stood tall and squared his shoulders. He pondered what his next words should be, to give his last winning statement.

"I've held by daughter, loved and cared for her until the last day she walked this earth. She was killed by Snow's scouting patrols. There was no mercy or afterthought. My wife killed herself and I was left alone. I said I had seen true liberty, but I have also lived the shackles of tyranny. What will happen when Katniss gives birth to your daughter, Mellark? Will you get to hold her in your arms? See her grow up and smile at you? Call you daddy? She'll belong to the Republic, and so will Katniss. You will never see them again. What you have to ask yourself is… Is Finnick Odair enough? Long live the Mockingjay!"

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Finnick was fed up with the monotonous endless sessions. He wanted wished he was teenager again, so he could run from his responsibilities and return to Peeta…he missed him. Yet he feared what he would find, when he returned. Some inkling in his gut told him things would not be the same. Cruel thoughts had kept him company. He had envisioned homecoming to Peeta and no Katniss or child. He cursed the moment he thought with happiness of bringing a son into their lives. He could've waited a bit longer, chosen a different vessel… maybe now their lives would be awaiting a son… Peeta's son. There were other options available to those with money. He could have hired Dr. Aurelius, who assured only sons as offspring. He was a monster, but one that got results.

Finnick eyed the liquor cabinet in the corner. It was empty. He had imbedded like never before. He found he was mean drunk, lusting after a blue-eyed, blonde artist faraway from him. Muttering to himself, "You better not break me…for there's no glue to piece me back together again…" He decided staying inside his room alone for another night was pointless.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

The strobe lights hurt his retinas, making his head pound with the bass of the music. Bodies swayed, some bared for all to see and touch. He was sitting by the bar, drinking shot after shot. Finnick tried to think how many days of this separation he had left. But his brain seemed to have shut off. It was too much ruckus surrounding him. The barkeeper kept winking at him, propositioning him to a more private venue. Finnick pretended he had missed the signs. But he wasn't left alone for long, as every five minutes someone would come along asking him to dance or offering him drinks.

It was a mistake leaving his private quarters. Out and about would have been fun, if he had his friends with him. But Cinnie was back in the Capitol with his Flavius, probably staring at Cashmere's buns. This mental image made him chuckle out loud.

"What's so funny, Finnick? See something amusing? Like to share?"

He knew that voice… a voice from his past. One he wanted to stay buried in the recesses of his mind. He kept staring at his drink, not giving any outer response to the enquiry. A scratching noise let him know the man had moved the adjacent stool to sit on it. He could feel the man's body heat and smell his particular cologne. It was hard to control his body's natural response to gag. Why did he have to look for trouble? He could have stayed in his room and ask for more alcohol be brought up. He closed his eyes, trying to keep his cool.

_Don't let him win… You have outgrown that part of your life. You're a Odair, act like one._

The barkeeper came towards them, and immediately asked the newcomer what he liked to drink. The man asked for a whiskey double on the rocks. Once he had his drink, the man gulped it down in one swallow. He dropped the tumbler, almost breaking and asked for another. He kept fisting his hands and shifting on his seat. Finnick decided he didn't have to stay immobile. He could stand up and leave. Nothing was stopping him.

A second too late.

"I've missed you, Nick. You don't know how much. Is it pathetic I treasure the moments I got to have you - you were mine. You should have been mine - forever. If only I had the money to bribe someone in Matrimonial Department. Our children would've been the envy of the Republic… You would have been revered by all. I would have loved you-"

Finnick recoiled at Heavensbee's personal pet name for him. As for the rest of his speech, he was searching for the restrooms, for he was definitely going to empty his stomach. A hand on his forearm held him back, "Take your filthy hand off me, Heavensbee. You better let me leave or I'll puke all over that brand new suit." Brushing his hands away, Finnick swayed and bumped into people.

"GET OUT OF MY WAY! Fuck, everything is spinning…"

He was still heaving into the toilet, when he felt a hand rubbing his back. The scent was back. It was him. The man had the audacity to follow him, acting all caring and doting. It caused him to retch again. He was panting and balmy. He wanted his bed and Peeta's arms embracing him. Tears were running down his face. His suit was ruined, making think of Mags and how she would yell at him for the stains. He wanted to return home. A handkerchief on his face, stinking of his past, cleared his face. He was sitting on the floor, inside the stall.

"I think it's finally over. No more drinking tonight, Nick. Come on, I'll take you back to your room."

His hands were trying to pull him up, but Finnick resisted. Didn't the man get it? It was over. It had been over for years. He didn't want him. It was a mistake, of his youth and inexperience, to be forgotten. But Heavensbee thought it was fine to remind him every time they saw each other. He used his own hands to stand up, and walked towards the washstand. He could see Heavensbee behind him, through the mirror. For a few seconds only the running water could be heard. His eyes lingered on his hands. He was stalling, but this had to be done.

Meeting gazes, Finnick confronted his tormentor, "I'm not Nick. I'm Finnick Odair, matched to Peeta Mellark. I love him, and will always love him. We'll have our children, and they will be the envy of the Republic. You have your life, your children, your partner, where I don't have a place or say in it, nor do I want to. What happened between us… stays in the past. I don't want you to approach me, in this way again. Whatever relation we have in the future has to be about our duties for the Capitol. Nothing more. Thank you for sobering me up."

The older man was quick enough to stride behind him, standing flush to his back. His hands found his, holding them against the top of the counter. His mouth was brushing his neck, inhaling his scent. Finnick was paralyzed.

"Just give me one more night… I want one more night with my Nick. Don't you want to be my good boy? You were magnificent. A true star, kneeling at my feet. I won't make you do that again…but give me a night to pleasure you, so I can make up for all I did to you… let me heal your wounds."

He kissed under his earlobe, making Finnick shudder in revulsion. It was good thing he had nothing left to spew.

"Take your hands off me, Heavensbee. Don't make me report your conduct, for I will do so, without regret. I belong to another, and one I give myself freely. You meant nothing to me. Now, leave."

Their eyes met one last time through the reflection in the mirror, the man staring back at him slumped defeated and stood back. Finnick gasped in relief, once he was alone in the restroom. His legs felt like jelly, he had to use the counter as support. For inside his mind all he could see was the collar on his neck, the commands on his ear, the noise and laughter, the ridicule and the abuse. He had been that man's sex toy. And now he'd finally had a small taste of vengeance.

With an acrid aftertaste, as a reminder.


	15. Part XV

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Mags kept constant vigil over Katniss. The girl had barely opened her eyes, and when she did her gaze stared into space. Not a word spoken from her lips. It was all Mags' doing, when she ate a bit of broth, and drank a few sips of water. Katniss was still breathing, but her soul was hiding behind a façade of indifference. Inside her mind she kept seeing the dried blood on the canvas, the face looking back at her, the eyes that she knew so well. It was him. It was her Gale.

Only he never had been really hers. Katniss had dreamt as a child, that they would later when they were older, to be husband and wife, like her parents. It was not to be so. They tiptoed around each other, never taking that next step, thinking there was time… Time was up, and his life was closer to ending than ever. The stench emanating from the painting came like a flashback, causing Katniss to heave.

"There child, just take a deep breath. I'll bring you some more crackers you can nibble, to settle your stomach. It's just you and me for now. Don't think on what you saw. Forget what you saw, and think of the little darling growing inside you. You must live for her. We women are meant to endure all this suffering, just to hear that baby cry at birth. The miracle of life… I will never forget that cry."

Mags' eyes welled with tears, as memories inundated her mind. It had been a hard life, but she didn't regret it. She was destined to be here, to help this poor child keep going. Once again she thanked her master, her Tristan for keeping her close, for not sending her away. Brushing her tears away and swallowing her sorrow, Mags heard a hoarse whisper come from Katniss' chapped lips. It was difficult to understand.

"I-It is Gale. The painting… my Gale."

Katniss curled in a ball, as her body quivered with her sobs. There were no words of comfort. Mags let her grief her lost love, only offering her warmth. As her crying ceased, her breathing settled, Katniss forced herself from allowing the daze to consume her again. She needed something.

"M-Mags… Why?"

After getting no reply from Mags, Katniss thought her words were not heard. Just as she was going to ask again, Mags interrupted her.

"You ask why this happened… Not many living today would be willing to explain. Not many know or remember the past. I may not be so old, not really, but I remember. Panem wasn't always Snow's playground. There was a time men and women coexisted, side by side. Women were wives, mothers, friends… It all changed with a lie."

"I was just a little girl…but I know it to be true. The women who taught me this life, would murmur in the darkness of this past, of a life they yearned for. Once, we stood as citizens, cherished partners of men. But dark days descended upon Panem, bringing civil unrest…a devastating drought destroyed fields of wheat, resulting in laborers' strikes with the food shortage. Thousands were going hungry. Men got violent asking for better conditions, for food, but no satisfactory answer was given by the ruling government of the time. Coriolanus Snow found the opportune moment to rise from anonymity, as the charismatic messiah. He had all the answers. The right words that everyone longed to hear. Why this calamity had befallen upon Panem's citizens? It was the big lie… women were to blame. Many marriages had ended, families ruined by divorce. Women's known promiscuity and depravity had ruined the moral principles of society."

Mags shook her head, and stopped taking deep breaths, but she continued with her tale.

"The massive strikes all over Panem's factories and fields were men unsatisfied with the current status in their lives. Women had failed their purpose, corrupting everything they touched. It was time to revolutionize, establishing the Law and new order where men lived among men, as equals erecting families with real values of prosperity and unity. As blood as spilled in the streets of every district, men took his words the justification for civil war, a sort of cleansing. Women were brutally raped every time his speeches were broadcasted, known as the _Hunger Games_."

"In the midst of this chaos, Snow was proclaimed President of the Republic of Panem. To ascertain veracity to his claim, a woman, Johanna Mason, served as symbol of women's depravity and unfitness to be free citizens. She was accused of killing her family. She became the warning to all men, of what women were capable of doing. She was despised by all, and was publicly executed. Her fate could befall any woman, and in this manner Snow assured women would be easily subdued and controlled."

"It was easier than controlling the workforce and giving them better working conditions. The segregation of the sexes gave him autonomy over the females, only productive in his new order as breeding vessels. If Snow had found a way to harvest children outside of a womb; he would've exterminated us all. And so it began, the Law was erected and accepted by all able-bodied men, with a silent agreement that anyone who spoke contrary to it disappears. Therefore, those that know or remember the past are dead or too afraid to speak…"

After her discourse, Mags embraced the silence. Katniss didn't know how to respond. It was too much information to grasp. Only hopeless prevailed. She was a prisoner in this house, with no prospects of escaping to her family's woods. Gale was also a prisoner… a tortured toy for the sole of amusement of a deranged man.

All men were to blame, they were his accomplices by remaining loyal to him and his Law. Were they so blinded by hate and fear, that they didn't see they had given up their freedom? Immersed in a state of complacency, the men were not questioning their way of life. The Law controlled every aspect of their daily lives, who they mated with, how many children they could have, and at what time period. They were sold a tangible culprit and they in turn resigned their individuality and right to choose, subject generations of men to programmed lives, while women bear the children and harvest their crops.

Katniss' experience at the Hob had only taught her the best ways to die. Now she understood why so many women chose that fate. Her eyes searched for Mags, thinking she had left her alone. The older woman was sitting by her bedside, her eyes dazed. She was brave, and Katniss had been harsh in her judgement of her. Mags was a survivor, who learned to adapt to her situation, even falling for her master. It was still confusing how she got to stay with him, and raise his child. Would it be too much to ask, if she was graced with the same blessing. Her only hope was seeing her daughter live… yet anger was also inside her. This wasn't the world she wanted her baby girl to grow up in.

She touched her belly, knowing she had to live for her child. Katniss couldn't fall apart and let this pain consume her. She needed to survive, learn from Mags. Gale's fate didn't have to be hers. Tears slipped from eyes, as she remembered his tortured eyes staring at her, and his mouth sewn shut. It was the end of a dream, that will never be. He didn't deserve this punishment, but she was incapable of stopping it. It was better to grieve Gale, and use whatever means' possible to ensure her Dahlia's future, even if it meant using Peeta Mellark.


	16. Part XVI

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Heavensbee couldn't keep still. He knew that what had brewed inside his mind was poison, but somehow he had to act. It was jealousy. It was rage. It was impotence. It was his love for a boy who was meant to be his. Nick deserved better than a second-rate painter, with pretty blues and golden hair. Just a few words in the right ears, and Finnick Odair would be free… to be with him. He could give him whatever he wanted, assisting his climb into the rightful place among the best politicians of Panem's Republic. It would bring the right change, writing new amendments to the Law, like abolishing that antiquated system of mating.

He could clearly envision it. And he would be the man behind it all.

His musings get interrupted by the creaking floor and a door opening. Snow entered the chamber, looking a bit disheveled. His hair was all mused up, and his clothes looked creased. One of his ever-present servants with breasts exposed, bent forward allowing the President to attach the leash to the ring on her collar. Heavensbee looked away, keeping his attention on his drink. It was not polite to stare at Snow's pets, especially if not given permission to do so.

"Such a good girl. Now, kneel at my feet. Good. What's troubling you, Plutarch? I was having… some needs taken care of by one of Avoxes. I need to show you how well-trained I have him… pity he has to die soon… Well, enough. Talk."

Heavensbee squirmed in his seat at Snow's sneer. It was clear he was not in the mood for frivolities. And what he wanted to discuss, could be seen as one in Snow's eyes. He coughed and sat his glass on the table.

"District 2 gave us a great show of what's been happening in other districts. Very interesting. I'm sure everything has been relayed to you, sir. It was Finnick Odair's first official meeting with the hierarchy of leaders… yet I didn't see him too enthused with the whole process. I've known the boy a long time. I've even hired his…mate, Peeta Mellark for a portrait of my son. But the reason I've asked to speak with you… well, I believe my poor Nick is suffering. This Peeta Mellark has failed as his partner. Nick has upheld the Law always… his good father was a great public servant. You didn't see him in tears, alone and heavily drinking. I've never seen him so distraught and confided in me… his lover has betrayed him-"

Snow stopped Heavensbee's tirade with a hand gesture.

"It is no secret you've had your eyes set on Odair's son. I find it reprehensible that you seem to think it is fitting I lose time hearing your jealous accusations against Mellark. Do you have any proof such infraction against the Law has occurred? Heed my words Heavensbee. Your accusations are treason against the Law, therefore need to be punished to the full extent. No exceptions. Is your precious _Nick_ responsible for any of it?"

"NO! Finnick is completely innocent. A victim. His partner has fucked the breeding vessel without Finnick present. Said vessel is already with child. A female child. A disappointment for Finnick, as you can imagine. All he wanted was to see a son with Mellark's eyes… It broke my heart seeing him desolate. He is always the life of the party. My standing in the Capitol should be enough to commission an inquiry. I am only a concerned citizen, trying to protect our way of life, defending the Law above all else."

Snow patted the head of the kneeled avox, as if he was alone in the room. Heavensbee wanted to scream, but controlled the impulse. It would detrimental to him, to his family, and ultimately to Finnick if he lost his temper with the most powerful man in the Republic.

"They are still young. Surely, they can try again for a boy worthy of the Odair name. It is a disappointing event, a mild set back. As for the female, she belongs to Panem, as soon as she's born. She will serve, just as her mother. Do you have anyone to corroborate the act? Apart from the guilty, that stand accused of treason."

Yes, Mags. She was the answer to his prayers. She was a loyal servant of Tristan, more so to Finnick. Surely, she would testify to Peeta's misdeeds against her beloved Finn. Heavensbee nodded.

"There's another woman living in that house. Mags, former vessel of Tristan Odair. She is loyal to Finnick and she will testify."

Snow swallowed a red grape from this plate, already bored with the conversation.

"I will send the order. It will be handled carefully. I don't want this to be public knowledge until the last dirt is scrubbed off. You better be right, Plutarch. I am a patient man, but today you've tried it to within a inch of breaking. If this turns out to be the ramblings of your vindictive mind… lets you say you might find yourself kneeling beside with my current favorite toy. You are dismissed."

Without delay, Heavensbee left the room. It was done, there was no way of undoing it. Instead of feeling peace of mind, his chest felt oppressed by an incorporeal weight. Not knowing what the future would befall him and his family, he decided in ways to ensure their wellbeing.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Returning to his home should have appeased his morose mood. But somehow the walls speak of secrets. Mags wasn't there, patiently waiting for his arrival. The house seemed empty of life, like when his father passed away.

It filled him with dread at what Finnick thought he would see reflected in his Peeta's crystal blue eyes. Doors to the soul, his father had warned. _The eyes of a man tell all, learn to see their darkness, their weaknesses, and become their master._

But this was Peeta... The man he loved. Could he see more than he wanted? Would he survive what stared plainly back at him?

Maybe it was for nothing. Peeta would smile, and his eyes would reflect his love, his complete devotion, just as the day they were officially mated.

Taking his time, he poured another drink. She was here, within these walls. Growing that blob of cells that would become a female. Another vessel to bring forth the next generation of Panem's men. For some unknown reason this reality weighted down on him. It was his decision what became of them both, mother and child.

The sour taste in his mouth kept him from nodding off. Peeta wasn't home. Their room looked like he'd left it, as if Peeta hadn't step in it all this time. Finn clenched his fists, his drink forgotten for now.

Their lives had been perfect, well nearly. The Law and its demand of producing the first heir. It would be a Mellark, but most of all it would be a Odair. The pride and joy of the doting fathers. He had imagined that boy… a little version of his Peeta. Never did he think of a contingency plan to the other possibility. Even less a complication to their lives.

Finn didn't plan for a Katniss.

Which brought him back to the real reason he was back early from his trip. He rubbed his face, as if doing so he could blind himself, erase all he had witness. He tried not flinch as he saw that man rape that... child. They said she had just matured, making her a viable vessel. He was the plantation's headmaster, clearly sent there to better uses, as he would had standout in the Capitol as a savage beast. There away from prying eyes and under the protection of the Law, he had all the females he could want to produce more hands for production.

As long as he lived, Finn will never forget her frighten eyes begging for someone to save her. He did nothing. He stood there beside other supposedly civilized men, as that man strapped her to the cot and proceeded to brutally rape her. When the animal was finished, he kissed her brow and told her she was a good girl, that she better survive.

Now, he was back in his home, the Capitol. A place his father's partner was executed for molesting him. Where was the Law that punished that... man for what he'd done?

Who was there to protect the countless females abused in every other district? No one.

It got worse, for he wasn't clean in light of these acts. He was just as guilty.

_Katniss_

_Katniss_

_Katniss_

Her names kept going round and round inside his head. Yet, he hated Katniss. For she was destroying everything he loved… Her gray eyes staring. Her full lips. Her small breasts. Individually, they were insignificant, nothing note worthy. But together, her attributes had captured Peeta's eyes. He had seen it. It was why he chose her. Finn wanted to blame her, but in the end it was his doing. He could have been the one to take her. He could have chosen any of the other women instead. The what ifs were going to drown him.

And there was the child.

Peeta's daughter.

Was he so ruthless and unashamed as to condemn Peeta's baby girl to the same fate as the one he saw raped?

Wishing for a quick death to the child was the humane option.


	17. Part XVII

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Mags found Finnick lying on the living room floor, with his drink spilled, and his snores. She felt a bit responsible for his current state. If only she could protect him from the world, from everyone set to hurt him, to keep him safe. If only she could have held him inside her body forever… She shook her head, at her dismal and completely absurd thoughts. Mags had found happiness, even in her station. Yes, she had been a breeding vessel, and had found a kind man in Tristan Odair. His name came with lots of responsibilities and expectations. A renown name must breed the best for the Republic. Her fellow companions were jealous of her, but at the same time warned her of the consequences of displeasing a man of his stature.

And here she still stood. In his ancestral home, walls that had seen tears, heartache, hate and betrayal of the most heinous nature. Seeing her son… her mind only tortured her with memories of the horrible past. Not of her experiences, for she didn't really care what happened to her, but of her son, at the hands of jealous, deranged lover.

Seneca Crane.

Involuntary shivers ran through her skin, as her eyes closed, seeing in her mind's eye what that… bastard had done to her Finn. Mags never registered in Crane's radar. He didn't view Mags as a real threat to his needs and affections. But once she birthed a son, things completely changed. Tristan was a father, his own flesh and blood, breathed and lived among them. And Seneca, was just his partner, set aside, bribed with ostentatious gifts and parties, but never really loved.

How she wished it would have been her, instead of her beautiful boy, at the hands of his ire and despair. Mags was amazed Tristan didn't kill him, himself. It was right, as the betrayed party, it within the Law's purview. After of many years without a public execution, Seneca Crane served as the rightful offering for such an occasion.

While in the districts no one was there to execute such justice, in the name of countless women…

Finn groaned and sat up, rubbing his forehead. He was home, and no longer alone. Mags was beside him, ready to serve him. Apparently, she was his most loyal…friend. Was that what she was in his life? Her eyes looked intently, never wavering from his sight, as if he was lost. Maybe he was.

"Mags… Why did my father keep you here?"

At first, he thought she didn't hear him, his voice so soft in the near darkness. Then her eyes stared glazed, as if she was seeing something in her head.

"Well… as his breeding vessel, a successful pregnancy which produced a male heir was seen, as a go-ahead to keep using said vessel to procure the next offspring. Your father had no complaints about my performance, therefore no concerns to look for another vessel. He kept me here, to watch over you. He was too busy to take care of you, and… your father's partner wasn't fond of children."

Mags' gaze turned down until she closed her eyes, as she kneeled beside him. Finnick thought she was praying to some higher entity, but there was no god or religion approved by the Law. Man was the owner of his actions, set to dominate this world.

His head pounded away, making him regret drinking so heavily again. It didn't solve anything, only temporarily numbed his thoughts. When he was about to simply stand up, and walk away, Mags started again.

"I miscarried one child… it was deemed a female by the doctor. It was no great loss for the Odair legacy. For a time, I feared it would mean I had to be separated from you. But it never happened. Your father was too stressed over some amendment, and he barely was home. You were just a child… and _he_ simply didn't care. I had left you in your room… if only I had stayed-"

Finnick stopped her, by taking hold of her withered hands.

"You…you are the only person who has stayed with me. Seen the good and the bad in my life, and still you love me. I don't know if my father would be proud of the man I've become… It wasn't your fault. None of it. Seneca Crane is no more, and can't hurt me."

Her sniffing, let him know she was silently crying. It was the first time in so long, that she allowed such display in front of him. The last time had been that day… his father's voice in the background, and her cries.

"Your father was irate. I was certain he would kill him with his bare hands… The execution didn't heal him. It made him determined. Tristan Odair, your father, was set to defy the Law… To defy President Snow. But others weren't willing to give up their lives. He had shown his greatest weakness to his enemies… You. You were his Achilles' heel. A simple threat on your life was enough to quiet your father. He bawled like a babe, at my feet. N-never in my life…would I've imagined such a sight. Your father begging for forgiveness. I absolved him of any guilt…for my love for him was such, that nothing could taint it. I loved him, Finn. As much as I could. And I thank him everyday, for allowing me to be by your side."

It was his turn to keep silent, and reflect on her words. His father had a guilt of conscience? Wanted to defy the Law? Set to defy Snow?

"Did he stop? Was that his last stand against the Republic and the Law?"

Mags shook her head, and cleared her face from all her tears. Her eyes locked on his, she breathed deeply.

"Your father kept his defiance a secret. He found sympathizers and organized underground meetings. Helped certain people find strategic places in the Republic. If you must know… your father is co-founder of the Rebellion. An insider, with real knowledge of the atrocities done with impunity, and the seal of approval of President Snow. I believe your father's untimely death wasn't no accident. Someone betrayed him, and it cost him his life."

"Why are you revealing this past? What intention does your words hold? Mags… do you want me to rebel against the Republic?"

Mags couldn't hold back her sobs, and she started to tremble. Finn approached her cautiously, and embraced her in his arms. His scent calmed her, it was so reminiscent of his father's. In some small way, she felt like he was still with her. Her son was holding her. There was hope inside her, that her Finn's heart wasn't completely damaged. He was capable of redemption.

"I-I don't know…my mind has remembered the past. I see your father in you. I see the regret in your eyes…there's still time. You aren't completely responsible. This government has corrupted everything… I know that if you wanted to change it you could, but I couldn't bear to see you perish the same way your father did. So my fears have taken hold of me. I survived without him, but I know I won't without you. You are my life. The very second you breathed outside my body, my life has been yours. I wasn't granted anymore children… I was only blessed with you, and I will live until you want me to."

Finnick tried to hold back his emotions, but tears welled in his eyes. His hand touched Mags' face, lined and dried. It spoke of a life not her own, a breeding vessel in service to a man, that at least had been kind to her. Even more than anyone, for he had kept her close to her son. How many favors it had cost him, Finnick shuddered just thinking about it.

"You are facing a challenge… Katniss… Peeta… their child. I know you'll do the right thing, 'cause I know your heart. You will find a way."

He chuckled. So much faith in him, Mags truly loved him like no other. It was strange for him to believe his father had loved him so. But her words had said as much.

"I-I don't want harm to come to _them_… But I love him, Mags, and I feel…I'm losing him. She has something I can never give him. His flesh, his blood, lives inside her. And Peeta loves that child. I don't have a leverage. I'm not my father. I don't think I can keep them all together. Not here. Not with the Law, as is. And certainly not with President Snow. And sending them to another district… I might as well kill them now. What I've seen…there's nothing to brush it away. It lives there in the background, torturing me, reminding me. I did nothing to stop it. I have seen but a small taste of what life is like for females in the periphery of the Capitol.

I'm not blind anymore.

And yet I want to gouge my eyes out."

Mags kissed his forehead, as if he was a mere babe in his mother's arms. If only he was small, and incapable of confronting the world, in need of his caretaker's protection.

A mother's love.

He had known, and experienced it. It was unheard of in the Capitol, and probably in the outer districts as well.

Unconditional and unwavering.

Everyone deserved such love.

**S-T-A-T-U-S-Q-U-O**

Peeta returned very late, and to his surprise Finnick was back. His lips tasted of beer and cigarettes. His blood still buzzing from adrenaline and pure nerves. He had been present in a secret meeting. Abernathy had convinced him to witness one. Not everyone in said meeting was pleased with his participation, but he proved his value by his testimony. He was another victim of the Law. His female unborn child was set to be taken from her mother, as property of the Republic, destined to become a breeding vessel or farmer's slave.

Peeta heard other stories, and realized he wasn't alone. In the group, some of the men had been wildlings, outlaws just like Katniss' family, and how they had been caught and tortured, all sanctioned under the Law. Families turned apart, the women distributed as animals to best serve the Republic, never as a person, with rights to freedom and choice.

He had no choice either. His life had been decided for him. His union with Finnick had been ordained by an automatic system. The Law dictated when he should procreate, how many, and for how long. If his children were female, they automatically belonged to Panem.

The scales had been removed from his eyes. His ears were receptive, and could hear loud and clear. He could no longer conform to the _status quo_.

No more a mindless citizen of the Republic of Panem.

He found Mags cleaning up a spilled drink on the floor. Her eyes were rimmed red, as if she had cried. He was about to inquire about Katniss, when he heard a hum coming from the garden. He walked into the inner open space, and found Finnick sitting in the darkness. The humming was coming from him. His eyes looked bloodshot, and his forehead was creased.

"I'm home early. Should I ask where have you been? No? Not with Cinnie and Flavi, I bet. They are my sort of companionship. I'm drunk, just letting you know. Poor Mags is cleaning my mess, like always. Good ole' Mags. Miss me? I did miss you… but I think you had your hands full here-"

Peeta grinned, for he had never seen Finnick be a chatty drunk.

"I finally finished Snow's painting. Took it to the Presidential mansion. Bumped into Abernathy… we got talking. Real interesting stuff. He wanted me to meet some people… Am I boring you?"

Finnick stared glazed-eyed to the sky, not paying attention to Peeta's words. His insecurities were rising once more. He was afraid of what he would find in Peeta's eyes.

"No…You met some people. Art interested people? Any potential clients? I'm sure their subjects must be more inspiring than what Snow had you paint-"

"How about an innocent man, with his mouth sown shut? A man who only wanted to live freely in the woods with his family? A man with a n-name… Fuck! Finn. He's going to die, to be made an example. Always the Law, above all else. When does it stop?"

Finnick sneered at the blackness. There was no end in sight. The injustice. The suffering. The abuse of power. All in the name of the Republic and its Law, for the good of Panem. Peeta had broken a vow, he knew and had revealed it to him. It was treason, it could mean his own life. The cycle never-ending, keeping everyone in line.

"I didn't hear you say a word. Not. one. word. Understand? Don't repeat it, to anyone. You may trust me, but I don't know if I should trust you, Peeta. Learn from past history, learn it and keep it close to you. My father died for trusting those beside him. I paid a price, for his trust on someone he thought would never betray him. I can only trust that old woman, on her knees, cleaning day after day, taking care of me. My mother. Do you know your mother? No, you don't. No one has broken off the oppression. My father went around it, and kept her here. And yet he was just another instrument, as have I."

Finnick sighed and looked at Peeta, his green searching, and there it was, the guilt reflected back. So it was done. If his head hadn't been killing him, maybe he would have been angry. But his body ached all over, and it wanted sleep.

Peeta opened and closed his mouth, but no words came out.

"I'm tired. And there it is. We are just pawns in a chessboard. I was wrong to have thought myself above it, when clearly am just another peasant. I want out of the game, and I think you want out, too. What it will cost us? Is a life precious to you? _Yours_ is to me… and hers and the child is to you. Check."

Without looking at Peeta again, Finnick left, humming under his breath.

A lullaby.

While Peeta felt his energy drain, like he had become liquid, and was about to splat into drops on the ground. The message in between the lines. Finn knew. The lines had been drawn, and Peeta was standing on the other side. With Katniss. With Dahlia.

_Check_.


End file.
